Unforeseen Alliance
by DeannaJean
Summary: Some years after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts he is grown, divorced and has four daughters. His life will be drastically turned upside down when he attends a dinner party hosted by Pansy Weasley.
1. Chapter One

Title: Unforeseen Alliance   
  
Author: DeannaJean  
  
Pairing: Harry/Draco eventually, and Ron/Pansy.   
  
Archive: Sure, just let me know.  
  
Spoilers: All Books  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. They're all property of J.K. Rowling and Schoolastic and all those other people. I just like to tamper.  
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Chapter One

"We've got to move it; we've got no other choice."

"Harry! Are you mad? You can't do that! The Cup is in three weeks, it would be unheard of to move it now!" 

"Lee, I don't _want_ to do it. I _have_ to. It's against Wizarding law, and that's that. You can't build Quidditch pitches within sixteen kilometers of any Muggle town or city. It's the _law."_

"I _know_ that, but-" 

"Yes, you know that. However, obviously some idiot from the planning department let it slip his mind. Now we have a bit of a problem. The Cup is in three weeks, and we have to move the stadium."

"But-" 

"No buts, we _will_ move it. If we have to delay the World Cup, then so be it."

"Do you hear what you're saying? Postpone the World Cup!" 

"I know Lee, I know. But as head of this department, I am refusing to break the law. It's dangerous; the law was made to help keep our world a secret. I don't intend to jeopardize that." 

"Harry, I understand, really. But-" 

Lee was cut off again by a knock on the door to Harry's office. A moment later a young, bright-eyed secretary popped her head around the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Potter, but your ex-wife's on Floo-2, she says it's urgent."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  "Thank you, Nora. Tell her I'll be right with her."

Nora nodded. "Yes, sir," she said and shut the door.

"Look," said Harry, turning back to Lee Jordan's head floating in his office fireplace, "I don't care what you have to do. You _will have that stadium moved, even if that means delaying the cup. Do you understand?"_

Lee finally realized that Harry was not going to budge on this issue.

"All right, Harry, it'll get done," he said, and disappeared. 

Once he was gone, Harry readied himself for whatever it was his ex-wife had to throw at him next, and pushed the number two button on the fireplace mantle. Instantly Hermione Potter's (she had yet to change her name back) head appeared, strict and business-like, as she always was. "What is it, 'Mione?" 

"Oh, Harry, I hate to do this to you on such short notice, but I need you to take the girls this weekend."

"What? Hermione, I can't! Pansy's dinner party is this weekend and I _promised_ Ron I'd be there. That's why I asked you to take them! I mean, Ron loves her, but not enough to spend a night with no one but Slytherins for company, you and I know Ron well enough to know that. I can't back out on him." Harry hoped he sounded firm, as he had with Lee. No such luck.

"Harry, you _have_ to. You can take them with you if it's necessary," she told him.  

"Pansy's not going to like that…"

"Pansy is one Weasley I could care less about. _Please do this for me! One of my clients got into a spot of trouble in Spain. I've just got to go!"_

Harry could feel the headache threatening to overwhelm him. It wasn't enough with the Quidditch pitch fiasco. Oh, no. Hermione has to sack him with the girls as well. 

Not that he didn't love his daughters very much; he did. But facing the wrath of Pansy Weasley was not something to which he was looking forward. 

"Can't Ginny take them?" he tried, unsuccessfully. 

"She's in Egypt with Colin, Harry."

"Right, honeymoon, of course," he mumbled. He was out of options, there was no way out. 

"All right, 'Mione, I'll take them."

Hermione's face filled with relief. "Oh thank Merlin! I have to leave straight away. Can you take them now?"

"I don't leave here for another two hours, you'll have to send them here," he said, wincing at the thought. 

"Right then, I'll Floo them along in a bit. And thanks Harry, you've no idea how much of a relief this is."

Harry nodded. "I understand, but you owe me. Infernal woman…"

Hermione smiled. "With talk like that, sometimes I wonder why we separated."

Harry snorted as her head disappeared. He couldn't keep himself from thinking that he knew exactly why they had separated. They'd divorced because there had never been any love to begin with. 

_No,_ Harry corrected himself. _There had been love, just not the kind we were looking for. _

It had been a union of convenience, he knew that now. After Ron had taken a fancy to Pansy (for reasons neither Harry nor Hermione had ever been able to fathom) the only natural thing for them to do was to pair off with each other.

It turned out to be the most unnatural thing they had ever experienced. They'd driven each other crazy with bickering. Harry simply could not take her constant nagging. Likewise, Hermione found fault in what she called Harry's "utter indifference to everything." Only Harry wasn't indifferent to _everything_, just everything involving their life together. Save their daughters of course.

Harry had never felt the need to express his opinion on anything simply because he never _had_ an opinion. He had never felt anything _but_ indifference towards their relationship. It wasn't even until the end that he realized that the indifference was really disguised unhappiness. A shield, to keep from hurting Hermione. Because he _did_ love her, really he did…just not in the way he'd originally thought. And the arguing was not the worst part, not by a long shot. The worst part, by far, had been the silence. 

In that silence had been all the unsaid words: words whispered, thought, moaned, shouted. In that silence they had remained, and in that silence, they had both been screaming. 

Finally they made the decision to divorce. To them it had been nothing more than a physical form of the mental separation they had already had for so long. To everyone who hadn't heard that insane, dismal quiet that had permeated their life, it had come as a complete shock.

Harry and Hermione Potter were separating? It was simply unspeakable. However, apparently it wasn't undoable, because they did it, and neither regretted the decision to do so. 

Harry pondered, as he waited for his daughters, that they had been the only rays of light in their ever darkening room. From darkness comes light, and the girls were full of light. 

So he had moved out and found a flat not far from the house. In regards to divorce, the wizarding law was really not much different than Muggle. However, Harry and Hermione had come to an understanding when it came to custody of their daughters. They both worked full time, but Hermione was a wizarding lawyer, and had the option of working at home when necessary. So she took the girls more often. 

That was almost two years ago, and not much had changed since. Cordelia was twelve, and already in Hogwarts, beginning her second year in September. Asia would be starting her first the year after. However now, they were _all_ home, Cordelia, Asia, Kimberley, and Brittany, which meant more work on both Harry and especially Hermione's part.

Harry was so lost in thought on all this that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Asia shot out of the fireplace, coughing and covered with soot. He was just coming toward her with a dirt brush when nine-year old Kimberley blasted out as well, in the same condition. Harry sighed and got to business, dusting them off as best he could.

"I hate Floo Powder!" said Kimberley, while Harry set to work on her sister.

"That's okay," he said, smiling. "I don't like it much either."

When he finished, Harry stood back and surveyed them, and then something occurred to him.

"Where are the others?" he asked in the tone of a worried parent.

What he got was a shrug from both parties. 

"I dunno," Asia said. "They were right behind us."

Just then there was a knock at the door and this time Seamus Finnegan's head poked around the edge.

"Hey Harry."

"What's up, Seamus?" he asked distractedly.

The other man grinned, stretching out his freckles "These yours?" he asked, swinging the door wide open and ushering in two more black-haired, dust-covered children. 

"Nope," said Harry, grinning back. "Never seen 'em before in my life."

"Dad," Cordelia groaned, rolling her eyes as she was prone to doing in his presence. 

The smallest of them all, six year old Brittany Potter, squealed out a high-pitched "Daddy!" and raced forward to attach herself to his leg.

Harry pulled her off as quickly as he could. 

"Not so fast, Brit," he said, drawing out the dirt-brush again. "Let me clean you off first. You're getting soot all over my trousers."

Brittany grinned up at him through a smudged face and said: "Okay, Daddy."

Cordelia took it upon herself to clean up and by the time Harry was done with her youngest sister, she was clean as well.

"Now," said Harry, assessing her. "What happened?"

Cordelia got defensive. "I choked! I guess it came out muffled…But I only went one grate too far!"

Harry nodded. "Alright, calm down. Nobody's accusing you."

He noticed Seamus was still in the room, watching the scene with a smile.

"Thanks Shay, I appreciate it."

"Not at all! It's not everyday my office is invaded by two gorgeous Potter girls," he said, winking.

Brittany beamed proudly and Cordelia blushed, turning a deep crimson. Harry was a little surprised by her reaction, but then the thought of Hermione in _their second year came to mind. _

Seamus chuckled too, and exited, but not before promising to take the girls out for ice cream before their vacation was over. Once he was gone, Harry took his parent stance.

"All right, you four," he said, sizing them all up.

Asia sat in one of the arm chairs in front of his desk, flipping through his Quidditch magazine. Kimberley was having a one-sided conversation with a fish in the tank near his desk. Cordelia was standing by the fireplace, a scowl on her face, and her arms crossed over her chest in a way that made Harry uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was rapidly approaching her teen years. And Brittany was…wait a minute.

"Where's Brittany?" 

Asia and Kimberley shrugged, Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Here I am!" squeaked the little raven-haired imp.

Harry's eyes scoured the room for the source of the voice, and frowned when he found it.

"Brittany, love, what are you doing under my desk?"

She gazed up at him with glittering emerald eyes, the only one of the four who hadn't inherited her mother's almond colored orbs. 

"It reminds me of my cupboard," she said simply, with the utmost sincerity. 

Harry nodded, but he wasn't very happy about it. Since she was old enough to reach the handle, Brittany had been sealing herself away in the cupboard under the first floor staircase. In the beginning, Harry and Hermione hadn't been able to figure out where she was; only that she would disappear for hours on end. Finally, getting worried, they had bribed a seven-year-old Kimberley with a new doll to find out. Harry remembered the day well.

***_flashback***_

 "Hermione, I though bribery was on the no-no list when it came to parenting," Harry had said as they'd stood outside of the children's playroom.

"Not when it concerns tracking down my youngest daughter and where she's disappearing to," Hermione had answered stiffly. This was around the time when they were reaching their wits end with each other, so of course everything she said was spoken stiffly.

So once Kimberley was finally convinced, she had led them out of the room, down the stairs, and then stopped. She looked at them, and then at the door to the cupboard, then silently turned and walked back upstairs.

Hermione threw Harry a worried glance.

"You don't think…"she began, trailing off, clearly wondering why she would choose a _cupboard_. Worrying that she had somehow found out about her fathers past.

Harry and Hermione had both agreed that they would not inform the girls about their fathers fame until all of them were old enough to understand the vastness of it.

"Why would she…?" he had returned in the same manner.

Hermione could only shake her head and shrug. Slowly, she leaned forward and swung open the door. There she was, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cupboard with her favorite blanket. When the light hit her eyes the little girl squinted, but as her eyes adjusted and she identified the intruders she gasped and scurried back into the far corner.

Hermione was in shock, standing frozen in the doorway, obviously not at all sure how to handle the situation. Harry realized that would have to be the one to act. Sending one last look at the perplexed Hermione, he lowered himself onto his knees and slowly crawled forward. As he entered, Brittany scooted herself further toward the back wall. Harry halted his movements.

"Brittany? What's wrong?"

The girl was silent. Harry looked over his shoulder and met Hermione's watchful eyes. 

"Herm, could you shut the door please?"

Hermione eyed him warily, "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded and she hesitated just a moment longer before shutting the door and plunging them both into darkness. Harry didn't move until he heard Hermione's retreating steps. When he was sure she was gone he turned to the general direction in which his youngest daughter was cowering. 

"Do you want to tell me why you're hiding in here now?"

There was no answer.

"Brittany? Come on, sweetie. Why won't you talk to me?"

There was a sniffling sound to his left and he fought the urge to move toward it. He remained silent and waited. Finally, her sweet, childish voice broke through the darkness like a silver bell. 

"'Cause you an' Mummy awr mad at me," she said, coupling it with a soft sob.

Harry let a sight escape his lips.

"Brittany! We're not _mad_. Mummy and I were _worried. Why are you spending all your time under _here_?"_

The silence took hold again as the youngest Potter considered her answer.

"'Cause I like it here," she said softly, but firmly.

"You like it?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yeth," she said, her baby-lisp still not entirely departed at her four years of age.

Harry settled his back against the door of the cupboard, having made a decision he intended to follow through with. Brittany was a very intelligent little girl, and he was tired of keeping it from them. It was time they knew what their father had been up against in his early childhood. He would tell Brittany first, make sure she understood. Then he would tell the others. He had waited long enough.

"Come here, Baby," he said, holding out his arms to her. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he found that there was just enough light through the cracks on the edges of the doors to illuminate her vaguely.  "Daddy wants to tell you a story." 

"A 'tory?"

There was some scrambling around and soon Harry found his lap occupied by a small child and her ratted, well-loved blanket.

"Whas the 'tory 'bout?" 

Harry sighed again, and shut his eyes, the memories rushing back to him. When he reopened them a moment later, he felt as ready as he supposed he'd ever be for this moment.

"This story is about a little boy." 

Brittany gazed up at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

"And this little boy was the son of a very kind, and good wizarding couple. They took good care of him and loved him very, very much."

"Like Mummy and you is to me and my thisters?" 

Harry nodded smiling down at her. "Yes, exactly like that."

_Except that Mum and Dad loved _each other_ as well._

"Now…that's about where the happy part of this story ends. Because there was an evil wizard, that didn't really like the good witch and wizard much-,"

Harry broke off and took a deep breath.

"What was the evil wissurds name? Why didn't he like 'em?"

"The wizard's name was Voldemort, and-"

Harry had to break off again as Brittany it seems had been overcome with a fit of giggles.

"Oh Daddy, that's a funny name! Why'd they call 'em that?"

"I don't know honey; they just did…listen to the story now."

"Okay."

"Well Voldemort didn't like the couple because they were fighting against him. See, Voldemort wanted to take over the world, and get rid of all the Muggles and the Muggle-borns, and the couple didn't want that to happen."

Brittany once again interrupted the story. "Mummy's Muggle-born, right?"

"Yes, your Mummy's a Muggle-born."

The little girl scowled. "Well, Voldemort sounds like a big 'ol bully to me!"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, that certainly is one way to put it. Anyway, Voldemort wanted to get rid of the good couple because they were causing a lot of trouble for his plans…and so one night, he came to the couple's house, and he attempted to end their lives."

Brittany's eyes widened and she gasped. "Oh Daddy! He didn't, did he? Even the little boy?"

Harry shook his head. "No, the little boy survived, however his parents did not. The only reason the little boy survived was that his mother died trying to save him. Her love protected him, and the killing spell rebounded off of him and hit the evil wizard instead. He disappeared, and the boy became famous in the wizarding world, for the only known person to ever have survived the killing curse. He was known as The Boy Who Lived."

He waited but the little girl didn't interrupt again, so he continued.

"Now the little boy would have grown up in the spot-light, and could have possibly become spoiled and mean. So a very wise man said that it would be best, if he went to live with his Muggle relatives.

"But the Muggles-the little boy's Aunt and Uncle-didn't like magic, or witches, or wizards. They lied to the little boy and told him that his parents died in a car crash, for he was far too little to remember what had happened. The treated him very badly, and made him sleep in the cupboard, under the stairs, and the poor little boy never knew that he was at all magical or extraordinary in any way, and he grew up feeling alone and unloved."

Finally, Brittany interrupted again. "Daddy, I don't like this…it's sad."

Harry smiled down at her. "It'll get better, honey."

"One night, on the eve of the boy's eleventh birthday, he was found by a great, kind man who was a friend of the very wise man, and he took the boy away, and showed him all of the wonderful things he could do. The little boy was going to Hogwarts, and he had finally found his place, he was special, he was extraordinary, and most of all…the little boy had people who loved him.

"The end," he said, and though the story was far from over, he had gotten the overall point across.

Brittany was silent for quite a long time after Harry finished his story. He was unaware that the other three Potter daughters were pressed against the cupboard door, and that they had been listening to the whole story with rapt attention. 

Then his youngest spoke again. "Why'd you tell me that 'tory?"

Harry looked down at her with a solemn face. 

"Because the little boy…was me." 

There was a loud gasp from behind the door that made Harry jump and without thinking he moved away from it, with Brittany in his arms and threw open the door. His eyes widened as Kimberley, Asia, and finally Cordelia tumbled over each other and into the cupboard along with them. 

"And just what did you three think you were doing?" he demanded, although he was trying to control the smile attempting to play across his lips.

Cordelia was the first to recover from the fall, probably because she had the other two to break it. "We were…listening," she said innocently.

"I see."

Kimberley, the smallest of the three and the first to tumble through the door, looked up at him with adoring eyes. "Is it true, Daddy? Are you famous?"

Harry nodded, no visible emotion on his face.

"Your aunt and uncle were really that mean?" piped up Asia. 

Harry nodded again. "Yes, but that's been long forgotten. As has all of it…but you had to know I suppose, someday." 

Finally, Brittany spoke. "I still love you, Daddy," she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck, as if proving it so.

Harry smiled and hugged her back; finally he pulled her away and looked down at her glowing face. "Now," he said firmly. "Do you understand why your mother and I worried when you took refuge in this cupboard?"

Brittany nodded. "But-does that mean I have to stop?"

Harry sighed, and slowly shook his head. "No Baby, you can do whatever you feel is right."

*** 

So Brittany had continued to seek refuge in her cupboard, and, after a shortened explanation, and a slightly longer argument with Hermione, she and Harry did not interrupt the pattern.

Harry sighed as Brittany ducked her head and back under his desk. What had he been saying…Oh, right.

"I've got to work for another couple of hours, and then we'll be heading back to my house-"

Asia squealed, interrupting him. "Oh! Are we staying with you tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "No, you'll probably end up staying the night with Marigold and Violet."

Cordelia looked up from her place by the mantle where she'd been considering his office carpeting. "We're going to Auntie Pansy and Uncle Ron's house?"

"Yes, Aunt Pansy's holding a dinner party for some of the Sly-erm, some of her old school friends. I promised your Uncle Ron I'd be there, so that's where we're going. I have to take you back to my house first so you can change into dress clothes. It's formal."

Asia scowled. "I hate dress robes."

Harry had never gotten used hearing the words 'Aunt Pansy', but as Ron was their godfather, it was only natural that Pansy be the godmother. 

"Well, you'll have to wear them. Marigold and Violet will be wearing them as well."

Marigold was sixteen and Violet was thirteen; they were Ron and Pansy's only daughters. Hermione and Harry had always gotten a chuckle over the chosen names.

Asia continued to scowl but said nothing more.

Nodding, Harry walked over to the fireplace and took a handful of Floo Powder from the bowl. Throwing it in, he recited the words well known words "Ronald Weasley, sixteen Godric's Hollow."

It wasn't long before Pansy's face appeared in the flames. "Yes? Oh! Hello Harry, how can I help you?"

"You're going to have to set the children's table with four more plates."

Pansy scowled. "Hermione backed out on you? Just wonderful, now I'll have those four to deal with on top of our two." 

Harry immediately got defensive. "I'll take care of them, Pansy. I didn't plan on any of this either."

Pansy nodded stiffly. "Whatever just make sure they're dressed for the occasion…and _behaved_."

Harry affirmed that they would be and Pansy's head disappeared with a pop. Three of the girls looked up at him with expectant eyes. He was sure Brittany was listening from under the desk.

"Well, you heard her. You don't need me to repeat it. Now I've got to run down to Alicia Spinnet's office and drop off some papers, her fireplace is being redone. I'll be back in about five minutes. Now be good, and for Merlin's sake stay _out_ of the broom closet." 

With that he left the room, sure that when he returned, all of the proto-types for the new Lightening Blaze 5000 series would be out and his office would be a mess.

He wasn't disappointed and after an expected scolding, Harry smiled and allowed the girls to zoom around the room. Provided they steer clear of the fish tank - after all, it _was glass. _

The two hours passed quickly and soon the girls were blinking in the sunlight outside the main office of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ever since the war when the original Ministry building had been destroyed, the different departments had been scattered throughout London. It was a bit of a controlled chaos, nevertheless, it was workable.

Harry fished his car keys out of the pocket of his robes and strode toward the beaten Pontiac Grand AM that was parked by the curb…basically the only car parked on the whole street.

Harry wasn't really sure why he drove; Apparating and even Flooing were far more instantaneous. However, Harry had never really been much for instant gratification, and he'd always loved the feeling of riding in a car. And actually driving one was so much better.  So when he'd left Hogwarts he'd proceeded to procure himself a Muggle driver's license and transferred some of his Galleons into Muggle money to purchase a car. Besides, his home, work, and even Ron and Pansy's home were so near he really could have walked if need be. 

Once all the girls were settled in the car and safely buckled; Asia, Kimberley, and Brittany in the back, Cordelia in the front, Harry plunged the key into the ignition and drove them home.

When they arrived, Harry wrenched the door open, struggling against the laundry basket full of clothes that had somehow been placed in front of the door. He knew exactly how it had moved, too…Shakespeare and Plato. 

As he thought the names, so they appeared, skidding to halt in front of the door and barking incessantly. 

"Alright, alright! Yes, we're home, now stop bloody barking!" Harry shouted over the ruckus the dogs were making, not to mention that behind him, all the girls were coaxing them on by cooing at them. 

Shakespeare was Harry's giant English Sheep Dog, and Plato his little Yorkshire Terrier. Harry wasn't sure why exactly he'd chosen such greatly contrasting dogs, at the moment he wasn't even sure why he'd decided to get dogs at all…cats seemed much less noisy. There was a pounding sound from the floor above and somebody shouting to 'quiet those bloody dogs.' They were, after all, trying to sleep.

Harry rolled his eyes and threw the door of his flat open the rest of the way, quieting the dogs as they were now occupied with jumping all over the girls. He immediately went to the kitchen depositing his briefcase and keys. 

"Girls, come on! We've got about an hour to be dressed, ready, and at Ron and Pansy's.  Now go to your rooms and find your dress robes."

The girls slowly departed from the dogs and went to their rooms

Once he was sure they were no longer being distracted, Harry went to the cabinet under the sink and took out the dog food. Making sure they were both fed (Shakespeare tended to want to try and eat Plato's food as well as his own) he made his way to his own bedroom.

Forty minutes later, he was sitting in the living room, still waiting for his daughters to emerge. 

_Take after their mother when it comes to getting ready, it seems._

"Girls! We're already late, now get a move on!"

After what seemed like hours, but was really only ten minutes, the four girls emerged from their bedrooms and lined up in order of age. Harry stood to inspect them, the two dogs on either side of him, seeming to do likewise.  

Cordelia was wearing dress robes of a shimmering silver color; they fit her…a bit snugly for Harry's liking. 

            "Delia, did your mother buy you those?"

            She nodded, spinning around in a circle. "You like?"

            "They're too tight," he said bluntly.

            The girl glared. "Mother didn't think so."

Harry ignored her and turned his attention to Asia, whose robes were a dark blue, and then to Kimberley who wore pale yellow. Finally he looked down at Brittany, whose robes were a scarlet red. He chuckled.

"Brittany dear…I believe you have them on backwards."

Brittany looked down at her robes; she reached down the front and pulled out a tag. She giggled. "Yup, I do."

Harry watched as Cordelia helped right them. 

"Alright," he said, straightening the tie on his suit. "Everyone to the car, we're _really_ late." 

_Pansy's going to murder me._

*** 

In the car on the way to the Weasley's, Harry reached into the glove box, pulling out his favorite tape and popping it into the player. This produced mixed feelings from the girls.

"Ew! Dad, that's old stuff!" said Cordelia scowling.

"Yay! ABBA!" shouted Brittany and Asia at almost the exact same instant.

Kimberley just shrugged.

As the tape played and the tires rolled over the pavement, and Harry lost himself in the music. Waiting…waiting. There it was; Harry's favorite song.

"_Half past twelve_ and I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone.__

_How I hate to spend the evening on my own._

_Autumn winds_

_Blowing outside my windows as I look around the room._

_And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom._

_There's not a soul out there…no one to hear my prayer."_

As the chorus came, the entire car began to sing along. Harry was even amused to see Cordelia mouthing the words at the window as she glared at it. He chuckled and continued to sing.

_"Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie a man after midnight, won't somebody help me chase the shadows away._

_"Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie a man after midnight, take me through the darkness to the break of the day."_

And so the car continued, and that is how they pulled up to the Weasley's sprawling residence, music blaring and singing their hearts out. Not a normal wizarding family by any stretch of the imagination.

When they entered the house, it was bustling with people. Ron had said a few guests; he hadn't said the entire Slytherin house! 

"Harry, mate! What took you so long?" 

Harry tilted his head in the direction of the girls, who were reacquainting themselves with Violet and Marigold. 

"'Mione left you with the girls?"

"She had to, one of her clients-something about Spain…oh hell, I don't know," he said, smiling comically. 

Ron nodded sympathetically and patted his back. "That's alright, come on in! I'll get you a drink."

Harry followed Ron through the crowd of people in the expansive house towards the bar in the den.

Ron had come to be pretty well off. Just out of Hogwarts he'd suddenly decided to study Nature magic; he studied it day and night. Needless to say Hermione and Harry were amazed at the amount of effort he poured into his every day work. They were even more surprised when about six months after he had taken up the subject, their dearest Ron made a breakthrough. Through some complicated procedure that not even Hermione could understand, he had managed to find a way to utilize the energy that came from Nature Magic. A way to utilize meant that there was an unlimited amount of power now open to the wizarding world. Once magic could only come in short bursts, as the only magic available was that which was derived from wizards. Now, it was available from the earth; magic unlimited. They now had wizarding electricity

The results had been explosive; he'd gone public the moment he'd gained the wizarding equivalent of a copyright. So many mass producing companies had been interested in the idea. Ron had made a fortune. Pansy had been thrilled, not that they were doing badly before. The two had gotten married not a month after their graduation from Hogwarts to the shock of just about everyone. Pansy's inheritance had kept them on their feet for as long as was necessary, but necessity wasn't long.  Ron had made his discovery, and set himself as one of Britain's premiere wizarding millionaires. It would be an understatement to say Harry and Hermione were proud of him. 

When they arrived at the bar, Harry was surprised when Ron slipped behind the counter.

"Why didn't you hire somebody to do that?" asked Harry.

Ron shrugged. "Why? So I can socialize?" He scoffed. "Plus this way I can keep an eye on them…I don't want a pack of raging drunk Slytherins plowing through my living room." 

Harry laughed. "You asked for whatever you get; you married one after all."

Ron scowled, then quirked a smile that meant he was off in dreamland. "Yeah…but I love her."

Harry smiled back at him. "Okay then, _bartender_, how about you fix me a Bloody Mary."

"At your service, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Ron talked and laughed at the bar until Pansy called everyone's attention to herself and announced dinner. Next to Harry, Blaise Zambini grunted. "About time."

_Well, these certainly are a friendly bunch aren't they? Haven't changed much._

Dinner was uneventful; a steam of maids flowed continually from the kitchens and served the many guests seated around the enormously long table. Harry was caught up in a discussion on the new broomstick regulations with (to his utter astonishment) Marcus Flint; he really didn't pay attention to much of what was going on at the dinner table. He recognized very few faces, but perhaps that was because he was attempting to avoid recognition himself and kept his head down unless he was talking to Marcus. Some horrid rendition of what hoped to pass a classical music was playing in the background, making it hard for Harry to digest his food. He glanced often at the door that separated the dining room from the kitchen, knowing his daughters, along with Marigold and  Violet, were eating their dinner just through them.

After dinner and dessert had been long disposed of and everyone had been talking idly for a few minutes, they were interrupted by the tapping of Pansy's spoon on her glass. 

"Fellow Slytherins…and Ron and Harry," she said, laughing slightly; the rest of the table, save of course Harry and Ron, laughed as well. "It was wonderful seeing you all again after such a very long time. Please stick around after dinner to catch up some more and enjoy yourselves. With luck, we can keep it up till the early hours of the morning, as we have done so many times before in our dear common room. Again, it was wonderful to see you all again. You're excused."

As people began to stand again, making more chatter, Harry groaned. The early hours of the morning? Fantastic. He stood and made his way into the den. The hallway, stairs, entryway, and the den were all full of people chatting and laughing, telling tales and there was even someone in the entryway singing. Harry eventually met back up with Ron and they talked until Pansy dragged him away to help her with clearing people out of the upstairs bedrooms.

_Well, the Slytherins really _haven't_ changed,_ thought Harry, laughing.  

He stood by the bar most of the time Ron was gone. A few people came up with the usual Oh-my-God-Harry-Potter?-Long-time-since-I've-seen-you banter. He smiled and played along. A couple times he saw the girls jet through the hallway and smiled when not a few seconds later Pansy's high-pitched shout could be heard, scolding them for their recklessness.

He was standing in that manner, leaning his back against the edge of the bar counter, drink in hand when he saw Brittany, and his heart melted. Harry saw her, dancing through the feet of the other people in the den. Her skirt spun around her as she did little hops and jumps like a fairy in a hidden corner of some magic forest. Harry, grinning, drew his wand and pointed at his daughter as she twirled. Instantly a cluster of little silver stars gathered around her and danced around her head and robes as she played. Harry would do anything to indulge the girl's fantasy, after all…you were only young once.

He continued watching her, a smile in permanent residence on his face. That was until, not watching her steps, as almost all children do, she toppled full force into a pair of legs. Harry frowned, and moved to help her…but something stopped him.

Brittany fell backwards onto her behind and quickly looked up to see who or what she had collided with. The person, who couldn't miss being run into by a dancing six year old, spun around, looking first straight ahead of him and then down at the lump of black-haired girl that was at his feet.

Harry recognized the person, how could he possibly not, and he would have bet his gasp could be heard clear across the country. He continued leaning on the bar, frozen, watching as that which was once his worst enemy, address his youngest daughter.

Draco Malfoy crouched down next to Brittany Potter, resting his forearms on his knees. He sent an amused smile at the little cluster of stars that were hovering above her head before speaking.

"Well, hello there. Do you happen to be the something that has just run itself so recklessly into the back of my legs?"

Brittany looked up at him with half-scared, half-curious eyes and nodded, just once. A smile spread across his lips; it gave Harry a chill.

"Well then, perhaps," he said and as he did he reached down, sliding his hands under her arms and standing her back on her feet with a gentleness Harry doubted he'd ever seen coming from Draco Malfoy. "You should watch where it is you're going.

Brittany nodded again and moved to walk away. Harry was just about to sigh in relief when Malfoy's hand came to rest on her shoulder and she spun around again.

"Where are you going so quickly? I want to talk to you," he spoke with a smooth voice, the clarity of tone was simply remarkable.

Brittany seemed mesmerized by him. "Y-you do?"

Malfoy nodded. "Indeed. Firstly, what is it you were doing that caused you to run into me? And secondly, what _are those ridiculous sparkling things fluttering about your head?"_

Brittany gasped and looked up, seeing the stars for the first time. She looked from the stars, to Malfoy, back to the stars. "I don't know, but they're prettyful."  

The saying caused Malfoy's smile to broaden and Brittany continued.

"I was playing ballerina!" she said and spun in a circle, letting her robes fan out around her. She looked up at him again, chancing that maybe, since he was speaking with her, he would become open to more adventurous actions.  "Will you play with me?" 

Malfoy's eyes widened and for a moment, Harry thought the other man was about to scream, but instead, he smirked. Finally something Harry was used to seeing.

"Well, I don't see why not." The tall blond man held out his hand and Brittany took it skeptically. Malfoy leaned down to her a minute.  "I've never done this before; you'll have to instruct me."

Brittany grinned at him. "Well, first you spin around in a circle like this." 

She spun, still grinning, and her robes twirled around her. Harry was shocked when Malfoy turned around once in an awkward circle.

"Like that, you say?"

"No, no," she commanded. "You have to do it on one foot, so you twirl, you can't just walk in a circle."

She repeated her action. With a reluctant look around the room, Malfoy copied her to the fullest, spinning around on one foot, and even twirling his arms about as she had. When he was done, Brittany nodded approval.

"That's it! Now, you have to jump forward on one foot, and spread your arms out on either side of you. It's called a pear-ree-yet, like this."  

As she did it, Malfoy shut his eyes, and muttered something under his breath. Harry laughed; it really was a sight to watch. Malfoy was just readying himself for utter humiliation when three blurs flew into the room one after the other.  When they'd zeroed in on who they had been looking for, all three of them came to a halt next to her. Kimberley stopped, running into the back of Brittany, and her halt caused Asia to run into her, thus making Cordelia run into Asia. Harry groaned; here came the cavalry.

Malfoy stopped, shocked, and looked at the group of black haired girls before him. 

"Hello," said Cordelia, seeing the man her sister had been conversing with. "Who are you?"

"Draco Malfoy," he said, giving her a penetrating look. "And you are?"

_Uh-oh,_ Harry though.

Cordelia brought herself up to her full height, 4'7, and looked at him proudly. "_I'm_ Cordelia Potter, and _that_ is my sister."

Malfoy stopped, and stared, completely and totally still. Finally he spoke. "Potter, you say?"

"Yeah!" said Kimberley proudly. "Our daddy's Harry Potter. He's famous!"

"I'm aware of the fact, yes." Another smirk graced his face. "Actually, I knew your father in school. Well, I'm sure you will all make a wonderful troop of Gryffindors."

Cordelia scowled at him. "I am _not a Gryffindor."_

Malfoy looked surprised, and then he smirked again. "Ravenclaw?"

Cordelia shook her head.

"Hufflepuff?" he asked again, somewhat desperately.

"Nope," said Cordelia, shaking her head again, a smirk on her own face. Harry was almost proud of her.

The blond man standing in front of his daughter stared and his mouth fell open. He soon collected himself. "Well, well, well. Potter has a kid in Slytherin…will the man never cease to amaze me?"

Harry decided now would be about the time to step in, and he did so, striding across the room and placing a hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "I suppose not. Even after all these years I can still manage to throw you for a loop, Malfoy."

Malfoy's smirk grew, only it was missing all of the cruelty and malice it had held so long ago when Harry had last seen it. "I believe I've sent you on a few loops yourself, or have you forgotten that prank in sixth year?"

Harry glared. "No, it hasn't managed to slip my mind as of yet. Kind of hard to forget when one levitates you above the Great Hall in your underwear."

Malfoy snickered, Cordelia's eyes went wide and Harry realized that Malfoy had just gained himself an everlasting hero-worshiper.

"You did that? To Dad?"

Malfoy nodded, still smirking.

"Wow! Can you teach m-?"

"Okay, that's enough chitter-chatter. You four get moving before your Aunt Pansy kicks you out," Harry ordered with a wink.

Asia, Kimberley, and Cordelia (somewhat reluctantly) nodded and moved toward the doorway. Harry was surprised when Brittany ran forth and attached herself to Malfoy's leg, hugging it tightly.

"Goodnight Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for playing with me!"

Malfoy smiled, a genuine smile, and crouched down again. He took her in his arms and gave her a small hug before pulling away and whispering, but loud enough for Harry to hear.

"It was a pleasure young lady. I would play ballerinas with you any day." 

Brittany grinned and finally turned and ran after her three sisters.

Malfoy stood and faced Harry. "Nice family Potter."

"Erm, thanks. And thanks for playing with Brittany, she really appreciated it."

The blond man smiled and shrugged. "She's sweet, I didn't mind."

Harry smiled and nodded and for a few moments there was an uncomfortable silence. Malfoy finally broke it.

"Make me a drink, Potter. You can tell me about yourself," he said. He looked sincere, yet still with the demanding air that was Draco Malfoy.

Harry really couldn't find a reason not to, so he shrugged and began walking towards the bar, Malfoy not far behind him.

*** 

By the time they were on their second drink they had exhausted all possible small talk. Conversations about political affairs and weather (both of which they managed to argue about, though how one can argue over weather Harry could never figure) were run out and there was no other option but to turn the conversation to more personal matters.

"So, Potter, are you still working for the Ministry? Unspeakables?"

"I'm still at the Ministry, but I left the Unspeakables a couple of years ago," said Harry, brushing at a piece of invisible fuzz on his suit.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Can you speak yet?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm afraid not. Everything in that department is confidential. That doesn't change when you leave the branch."

"Well then, where are you at now?" asked Malfoy.

"Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports," said Harry offhandedly. 

"I should have guessed. How're you dealing with that Quidditch pitch fiasco?" 

Harry had to fight not to choke on his drink. "How did you-? I swear if someone in my department's been leaking information-"

He broke off when Malfoy began laughing. "Relax, Potter. Nobody's been leaking information. Anybody with the intelligence of a Puffskin could see that there were less than sixteen kilometers between the stadium and that little Muggle town."

Harry snorted. "So I'm not the only one that thinks the Department of Planning and Development of Magical Establishments only has about two brain cells combined?"

"No…it's unanimous." 

There was a silence as the two digested the fact that for once in the entirety of their acquaintance; they were in agreement on something.

"So what are you going to do?"

Harry sighed and took a swallow of his drink. "We're moving the pitch."

Malfoy hissed through his teeth. "Risky decision, Potter. The World Cup-" 

"Yeah, yeah, I know the cup is in three weeks and if we move the stadium we'll have to delay. It's just something we have to do; I'm not going to break the law."

It was Malfoy's turn to snort. "That's odd…rules never seemed to bother you before."

Harry looked up, meeting the other man's gaze and shrugging. "I grew up."

They continued in silence for quite some time, until finally Harry took over the conversation.

"And what are you doing with yourself?" It was lame he knew, but he could think of no other line of discussion.

"I have a little coffee-book shop. In the lane between Knockturn and Diagon Alley's. We sell fiction, Magical and Muggle."

Harry just stared. 

"What?" asked Malfoy, looking defensive.

"I just-I've been in there before, a few times. You have a nice selection; I just didn't know you ran the place."

Malfoy's defensive look was replaced with a smile. "Well thank you, Potter. Actually, before I opened the shop…I'd been going through Auror training. About four months into it I realized it wasn't for me."

"Yeah, no kidding," said Harry, trying to picture Malfoy as an Auror.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy was getting defensive again.

"I-well I don't know. With your father being who he was, I always assumed you would take a different…road, in life."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and gave Harry a harsh look. "Yeah, well. I learned pretty early in life that I am not, and never could be, my father. Consequently I was a lot happier when I'd reached that realization."

Nodding, Harry apologized, looking down at his feet. "Sorry. I guess I just never really saw you as anything else but the son of Lucius Malfoy."

When he looked up again, Malfoy was gazing at him with, if he wasn't mistaken, a sad kind of look. "Of course you didn't. I was a Slytherin, which to you meant I didn't have a conscience, a soul, or a heart. I don't blame you. After all, I pigeon-holed you the same way."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, well. Out of Hogwarts…you start to realize that maybe you don't have as much in common with your house mates as you thought you did."

He felt the penetrating look Malfoy was sending him without even looking up. "Granger?"

His whole body stiffened. 

_You don't want to talk about this, why are you-_

"You could say that, I guess. I don't know what it was that made us think it could work…hell, I don't even know why I'm talking about this to you."

"It must have worked to an extent," said Malfoy with a slight hint of humor to his voice. "You have four kids to show for it, and you're talking to me about this because I'm here, and I'm listening."

Harry looked up from where he'd been studying the carpet of the den. "But are you?"

Malfoy smirked. "Would I be here if I wasn't?"

A shrug. "I suppose not."

"Then talk." 

Simple, such a simple deduction. Harry nodded. "Alright then."

He stood from his bar stool and walked a few steps away, to an armchair that sat by the room's fireplace. Malfoy took the adjacent one, and Harry, for some reason he had yet to fathom, began to speak.

He told him everything. The silence, the arguing, the butting heads, right down to the monotony of their sex life. If his own actions weren't enough to shock him completely, there _was the fact that Malfoy's _reactions_ were of an understanding nature, almost sympathetic. When Harry finished he sat staring into the empty fireplace, feeling nearly…relieved. _

"Well, have you seen anybody since?" Malfoy finally asked.

Harry frowned. "No, haven't really been interested in anybody yet. I'm sure, if I give it a little more time…I'll come around."

"Don't be so sure, wasn't it Dumbledore who always said 'Live your life, while you have the chance'."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're quoting Dumbledore?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Greater miracles have happened."

"What about you?"

"What's that?"

"Have you seen anybody since Pansy dumped you in sixth year?"

"I'll have you know that that was a mutual separation." He said it with a straight face but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Well?"

Malfoy began to laugh. "Yes, Potter. I've dated a number of people since Hogwarts."

"Really? Anything long term?"

"Well…" Malfoy trailed off and a smile quirked at the corner of his lips, as if he knew a great secret that he was about to divulge to Harry. "As a matter of fact, one lasted about a year and half…just recently broke it off actually. He was an ass, one of us had to do it and he wasn't in any hurry."

It was a usual thing for Harry to be at a loss for words, on occasion he had even been known to stutter. However never had he been so at a loss for words that he was reduced to a sputtering, mumbling, squeaky voiced pile of confusion.

"I-y-you…did you just-huh?"

This elicited a chuckle from Malfoy. "You heard me right, Potter. I said 'he'. As in a male. As in I'm gay, and he was gay, and we had a gay relationship. Clear enough for you?" 

Harry stared a minute, he nodded and tried to say yes, but all that came out was a lost sounding squeak. It was enough to send Malfoy into gales of laughter. Apparently, he found Harry's shock somewhat amusing.

Harry quickly realized how discourteous his response had been. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry. That was…rude."

Malfoy's laughter continued. "No! Its fine-I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

Harry looked at him curiously. "Are you sure you're not…offended or anything?"

The other man nodded, his laughter dying down to a smile. "Not at all. Relax, Potter. I was just winding you up."

A confused looked graced Harry's face. "So you're not…homosexual?"

A soft chuckle. "No, I _am_ gay. It's just great to see people's reactions. Amazes me every time. I always thought it was pretty obvious."

"Obvious? How long have you…known?"

"Since about sixth year," said Malfoy bluntly.

"_Really_?"

Malfoy nodded and Harry began speaking again. "Well, I had no idea. I would have never guessed."  Harry thought a moment. "Did your father approve?"

"Approve? Are you joking? It's probably one of the reasons I didn't end up following in his footsteps. Good thing too, his side lost, and I wouldn't be here talking to you. Imagine that…my sexuality saved my life."

Harry took all this in, realizing that until now, he'd never really considered the fact that Malfoy had depth. Never thought about the idea that maybe he wasn't just another little Slytherin Death Eater, just like his father. Harry realized he had been shallow. 

"Yeah…imagine that."

They lapsed into silence for quite awhile, and then Malfoy began chuckling again. Harry raised his eyebrows, asking what exactly he found so funny, at which point Malfoy blushed and ceased laughing.

"It's…it's nothing."

"No, you're going to tell me what you're laughing about. Or I'll take that daiquiri away from you and you won't get another drink the rest of the night." 

"You _sure_ you want to know?" asked Malfoy, raising a pale eyebrow and giving him a skeptical look.

Harry nodded firmly.

"Alright then. I was thinking about the time when I levitated you over the Great Hall in your underwear."

Once again, Harry was confused. "Why would I not want to know about that?"

"Because, what I didn't mention previous to this was that at the time, I found it rather…endearing. You hovering there, blushing like mad in your little snitch boxers. It was cute."

There was a silence as Harry digested this. Malfoy thought he was cute, or had at one point. 

"You thought I was…cute?"

"Contrary to popular belief, you _are rather attractive you know," said Malfoy, smirking._

"I-well…thanks, I guess."

"You're not…put off are you?"

"Not really, no. Just surprised…I never really thought that my former rival might have considered me attractive."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Why the past tense?"

Harry sputtered and Malfoy cursed.

"Bullocks, I've had too much to drink. You can disregard that."

Harry chuckled uneasily. "I think we've all had a little too much," he said, nodding his head toward the other side of the room. Malcolm Baddock was currently on the table with a lampshade on his head whilst Millicent Bulstrode attempted to shove a five-dollar bill into the hem of his pants. 

Malfoy snorted. "Right you are. Really though, why the 'former'? I didn't realize we'd dropped those positions."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I decided that as we're standing here actually carrying on a civilized conversation…maybe it's possible we've lost rival status. Wouldn't you say so, Malfoy?"

The blond seemed to mull it over, before slowly nodding his head. "Alright, fair enough. Only…if we're going to be proper acquaintances, isn't it traditional that we address each other on a first name basis?" 

"Erm…right. Well then," Harry said, sticking out his hand to Malfoy. "Let's do this the right way. I'm Harry."

Malfoy smirked, trying to control a chuckle and extended his own pale, refined hand and grasping Harry's with it. "Draco."

They were flying backwards, to a time when two small wisps of boys, one dark, one light, stood facing each other. Only now, the dark boy was not the wizarding world's golden child, and the light boy was no longer bound by his ancestry.  It went by in a flash, the irony of it sweeping through both their minds at almost the exact same instant. 

Their friendship was formed…and perhaps…it would take them both further than they had ever thought possible.

*********************************************

A.N. Hey everyone, thanks for reading…pretty please leave a review. This is my first time posting on ff.net so I want to know what you all think. Second chapter will be out fairly soon, it's at the beta's already. -DJ


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Unforeseen Alliance  
  
Author: DeannaJean  
  
Pairing: Harry/Draco eventually, and Ron/Pansy.  
  
Archive: Sure, just let me know.  
  
Spoilers: All Books  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. They're all property of J.K. Rowling and Schoolastic and all those other people. I just like to tamper.  
  


***************************

The laughter flowed out of the doors of the den as Ron and Pansy Weasley walked through the hallway. As one they turned to look at each other.

"I thought we had everyone out," said Ron in a confused manner. The exhaustion was clear in his voice.

"So did I; I thought I'd gotten everyone when I put the kids to sleep. The only one still here was Harry," Pansy said, approaching the door to the den, slowly she cracked it open and peered in. "Oh my…Ron, come look at this," she said, motioning for him to come closer.  

He did, peeking through the crack in the door and his jaw fell open. On the armchairs near the fire, drinks in hand sat Harry and Draco Malfoy. Harry was speaking. He was gesturing wildly, as he tended to do when he had too much to drink, and Malfoy…Malfoy was laughing!

"Come on," said Ron, pushing open the door and pulling Pansy in with him. As they drew nearer, he heard more and more of the conversation.

"So Hermione couldn't come, and it was just Ron and I. You should have seen her, she had a _tail_! Anyway so we made it to the common room somehow and there you were. Of course we knew after the first ten minutes or so that you couldn't possibly be the heir…"

Malfoy was nodding. "I actually remember that, I thought it was odd how those two just ran out all of a sudden. Crabbe and Goyle never _ran anywhere. I just can't believe it…a Polyjuice Potion in _second year_. That's so advanced…"_

"Yeah, well we couldn't have done it without Hermione. She was the brains of the outfit after all."

"Granger was _always_ the brains of the outfit. She had to be…what with you two for companions."

Ron picked that moment to cut in.

"Telling him all our secrets, Harry?" 

Harry jumped and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot but he was smiling and he motioned for Ron to sit down.

"Hey mate! I was just telling Draco about the Polyjuice Potion in second year."

_Draco!?_

"I heard," said Ron scowling. He didn't sit down. 

Pansy approached the group and Harry jumped from his seat unexpectedly, wrapping an arm around Pansy's shoulders.

"This was a wonderful party, Pans. I had a great time," he slurred his words and wobbled a bit on his feet. Ron had the feeling that if Pansy had not been there to support Harry, he would probably topple over.

"I'm…glad you enjoyed it, Harry," said Pansy. She shot a panicked look at Ron, mouthing the word 'Pans' with a disturbed look on her face.  Ron shook his head in confusion. They were both at a loss. The red-head watched as Draco stood as well, reaching out a hand to him.

"Thank you for opening your home to me," he said, gazing around the den. "It really is beautiful; you should tell me who does your decorating sometime."  

He glanced over his shoulder at Pansy who was trying desperately to hold up Harry who was apparently regaling her with the tale of how he conquered a dragon.  

"Is he going to be alright?" he asked uncertain.

"Who, Harry? He gets like this a lot. Ever since everything that happened with Herm. Just don't get him on the subject of You-Know-Who, unless you want to hear every curse-word in the history of the English language…not to mention some in French." 

Malfoy laughed and Ron scowled again. Why was he talking about this with _him_?

"Ron! I can't find my keys mate! Come on!" shouted Harry, stumbling over and throwing an arm around Ron's shoulders. "Les go find 'em."  

"Harry, you've gone completely nutters if you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition."

Malfoy was standing next to Ron, smirking. "Well, well, well…Potter can't handle his liquor."

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, but he was smiling.

"Harry, I'm not letting you drive home," Ron said, motioning to Pansy to help him out.

"We have plenty of guest rooms, Harry. Why don't you just stay here tonight."

Harry shook his head vigorously. "Can't. Dogs need to go out."

"Floo powder?" asked Pansy.

"Remember the last time?" said Ron with a grimace and a significant look at Pansy.

"Why doesn't he Apparate?" said Malfoy curiously.

"You think he can Apparate in this condition? Plus, he let his license expire…he never used it anyway. He likes to drive," said Ron with a worried expression on his face.  

Harry was scowling. "I can fine just drive," he grumbled, not even realizing he'd mixed his words.

"Harry dear," said Pansy soothingly, walking over to help Ron with Harry's weight. "You can barely string two words together."

"I'll Apparate him," said Malfoy after a pause. "I need the address though." 

Ron's mouth fell open for the second time that night. "Wha-I-Are you sure?"

"I don't mind," he said simply, his face a blank slate. Harry seemed to have zoned out completely and he was humming the Chudley Cannons fight song.

"Oh Draco, you're a dear! I'll go pull the address," said Pansy, striding over to a little catalog box on the mantle. Harry wobbled a little on Ron's shoulder when Pansy's support was lost.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea…maybe I should do it," Ron mumbled.

"Don't be daft," said Pansy. "We're exhausted; we've been running around the house all night. Best let Draco do it."

"How do we know he's not drunk!" said Ron in a paranoid way. "He could be just as bad as Harry!"  

"Do I look drunk to you, Weasley?" said Malfoy dully. He moved forward, flinging Harry's arm over his shoulder and hoisting him up a little, transferring the weight to his own shoulder. 

"Here you are!" said Pansy cheerily, handing the card to Malfoy. "It's a little flat about six blocks away."

Malfoy nodded slowly, hoisting Harry again, studying the card he held in his free hand. 

"Alright, I know where this is. It really was a great party, Pansy. Thanks for the invite."  

"Oh, you're welcome. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," said Pansy winking at Draco. 

Draco nodded, and the sound of Harry saying distinctly "Oh! Draco! Could you pass the sugar?" filled the den. There was a pop and they were gone.   

In the silence that followed, Ron turned to gaze at his wife astonished. 

"Pansy, dear, are you _sure_ that was an entirely good idea?"  

Pansy took a seat in the armchair Harry had vacated. "No, I'm not sure."

It looked as though Ron was about to speak but Pansy lifted a hand to halt him. "But I do know that Draco is a good guy, and I know that Harry's had a lot on his mind lately."

"Do you have a point?" 

"Ronald!" she hissed, scowling at him. "Let me put it this way: not everyone carries their childhood grudges into adulthood."

Ron 'hmphed' but didn't say anything more.

*** 

There was a loud pop outside Harry's apartment building as Draco Apparated them both. Labouringly the blond lugged Harry to the stairs and sat him down; the famous golden boy collapsed back against the stairs immediately.

"Merlin, you're heavy, Potter," he said scowling.  

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "I know I'm Harry Potter; you don't need to tell me that. Everyone always says that when they first meet me. S'a bit annoying."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I said _heavy. Not Harry." _

"Oh…s'warm out," said Harry, wavering a bit as he attempted to sit up.

"That happens when our side of the earth gets near the sun. It's called summer. Now get up, I don't know which flat is yours and I'm not risking the fact that you might fall down the stairs without my help," Draco ordered, standing over Harry with a hand out to help him rise.

Harry took the hand and Draco pulled, with a good amount of tugging on Draco's part and much attempting to sit back down on Harry's. They eventually achieved their goal and Draco half-carried, half-shoved Harry up the stone stairs. They made their way through the doors of the apartment building, after the extensive length of time in which Harry took to find his keys.

When they reached the door to the apartment Harry threw open the door and stumbled in, ignoring Draco who peered around the door frame into the small flat but didn't enter. A large clattering sound was followed by a curse and Draco couldn't help but chuckle, taking a small step in. "Why don't you turn on the liiii-ARGH!"

Something – no – two somethings, had just plowed into him, sending him sprawling backwards to lie half-in and half-out of the threshold to the flat. The next thing he knew he was being licked by those somethings and the light from the hallway told him what he had suspected.  Potter's dogs. 

"Malfoy…Draco? What's wrong?" Harry slurred, and Draco watched as he stumbled forward.

"Dogs!" Draco gasped out as the little one pounced on his stomach.

"Oh…" said Harry disjointedly. "Oh! Shakespeare! Plato! Back off!"

The two dogs complied rather reluctantly and Draco sat up as Harry flipped on the light. Draco eyed the dogs warily from his spot on the ground. 

"That is the second time tonight some strange Potter offspring has run into me," he mused.

Harry blinked bemusedly, looking from Malfoy to the two canines panting contentedly by his side. "They're not _exactly offspring," he offered, scratching the side of his head._

"I don't know…I think this one inherited your hair," said Draco, ruffling Shakespeare's shaggy head and standing.

"Very funny," Harry mumbled. It looked as if he was attempting to keep his eyes focused. Malfoy was regally brushing off his pants, gazing around the dimly lighted flat.

"Potter," he began, patting Harry softly on the shoulder. "You are most definitely trashed…but you have a nice place here." 

"Thanks," said Harry, and without warning he stepped away from Draco and headed into the kitchen. 

A moment later he returned with a pair of leashes, wobbling precariously as he attempted to link them to the dog's collars. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, how you expect to walk them if you can't even get them _on_ the leash is beyond me. Budge over, let me do it," he said, bumping Harry out of the way with his elbow and taking hold of the clasp. 

"Now, see, this isn't so difficult," he continued once each dogs was secured to their respective leash. He glanced up to see if Harry was paying attention and found him bouncing on the balls of his feet and humming to himself. Draco let out a huge sigh; he'd really hoped to get home before dawn.

"Why don't you let me do it?"

"Huh? Oh no, they only go in this one spot and you don't know where that is," Harry finally managed.

"You could tell me," said Draco, and then watched as Harry picked up a pencil from the hall table and studied it as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Or not."

There was a silence as Harry looked around for the dogs, calling for them…when they happened to be sitting right in front of him.

"That's it. I'm coming with you."

"What? Why?!" protested Harry. "You honestly think I can't walk my own gods?"

"Yes," said Draco, he was trying to hide the smile threatening to overtake his lips.

Harry was still protesting when Draco pulled him out the front door of the apartment building. After several attempts to get Harry to hold on to the leashes, Draco had given up and was now walking the dogs alongside of a stumbling Harry.

They walked in silence for quite some time, the dogs trotting ahead of them. Plato weaved back and forth around Shakespeare so that Draco had to stop and unwind the leashes at regular intervals. Draco was still trying to resolve the mystery of how he came to be walking a couple of dogs with Harry Potter at – he checked his watch – four in the morning. Not that he minded much; he had found earlier in the evening that he much enjoyed Potter's company, which had been a surprise at best.

He cast a glance at the wobbling black-haired man. He was not so sure how he felt about him intoxicated, however. 

"Potter, how much farther is this place?"

"Place?" asked Harry. Draco stopped immediately and narrowed his eyes at him.

"For the dogs," he coaxed, hoping to jog Harry's memory.

"Oh."

There was silence.

"Don't tell me we already –"

"Er," said Harry. "We passed it." 

Draco threw up his hands in frustration and cursed. "That's it! We're in a park, there are trees _everywhere_. Surely they can find one they fancy."

Harry took a moment to digest this. 

"We're in a park? We are! Look, they have _swings!"  And he wandered off toward them.  _

Draco was at a loss.

That was how he came to be sitting on a swing-set with Harry Potter beside him at quarter to five in the morning discussing, well, everything.

"You know what I hate?" asked Harry, having sobered just a bit in the past half-hour. He was gazing at Shakespeare and Plato, whom Draco had tied to a nearby bench to do what they wished. They seemed quite content with this state of affairs.

"What is that, Potter," Draco asked, swinging back and forth rather low to the ground.

"I hate life," he stated firmly.

"Oh, well, that isn't at all vague or equivocal." 

"Huh?"

"Never mind, go on," Draco said, waving a hand.

"It's just that life is so full of everything trivial, so much changes and you have wonder, if it's going to change then what's the point of it ever having _been_ in the first place."

"No, _you_ wonder," Draco corrected.

"Whatever, my point is. If it's all going to change, why should it ever be? Maybe we should all just die, and then nothing will change, and nothing will ever get bad or worse and nobody would ever get hurt or make bad decisions."

"Potter," Draco said sighing. "You're drunk, and you're not making any kind of coherent sense. You need coffee."

"Damn it, Draco! I'm trying to make a point," Harry cried exasperatedly.

Draco smirked "Okay, you have a point; I'll give that to you."

Harry began to smile victoriously and Draco held up a hand.

"_However_, I'm going to have to override that point. If we were all dead, if nothing ever was, then despite the fact there would be no bad happenings, you realize that nothing good would ever happen either. There would be nothing, no joy, no pleasure. Laughter would never have existed; if you're dead, you can't live. The purpose of life is to feel, to sense, because dead things don't think, they can't remember and they can't contemplate anything…and I can't believe you've somehow tricked me into joining you in your drunken ramblings."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

There was a long silence as their minds worked around what had just been stated and tried to discern if it actually _did make sense or not. Finally, Draco broke the silence._

"Did you ever realize that Voldemort had absolutely _no life?"_

"_What_?" asked Harry, perplexed as to where that line of thinking had come from.

"I'm serious!" Draco continued. "He probably spent years trying to figure out how to change a dorky ass name like 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' into something cool."

Harry laughed; something he'd been doing a lot of in the past twelve hours. "Even then…Voldemort sounds like some sort of fungus you find growing in your basement."

"I wouldn't know," said Draco, smirking. "I don't have fungi growing in my basement."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that some sort of weird innuendo?"

It was Draco's turn to laugh. "No, Potter. Honestly, your mind works in strange and twisted ways."

"Right; and yours doesn't?"

"_That_ is another matter entirely."

There was a pause.

"It's getting light out," stated Harry.

"Indeed," said Draco, glancing up at the sky.

"I should probably get home."

"Suppose I should too."

Harry nodded, and then spoke. "Except…that I don't want to go."

"Why's that, Potter?"

"There's nobody there."

Draco frowned. "Isn't that normal?"

"Well…yes. But you're here. Hence the absence of solitude." 

"Big words, Potter, you'll short circuit your mind."

"Shut up."

Draco bit his lip thoughtfully. "There's a diner around here that should be opening right about now."

"A diner?"

"They'll have coffee." 

"Let's go," Harry stated firmly. 

They'd gone to the diner, a few blocks from the park they had visited. They tied Shakespeare and Plato to a telephone pole outside the diner, and took a window seat to keep an eye on them. It was early still, and nobody was about to bother the two canines. 

Breakfast was a normal affair in which they'd conversed in between sips of coffee and bites of eggs. Normal, of course, until Harry, out of boredom and a bout of insanity caused by lack of sleep, had begun flicking bits of bacon at Draco's head.

Said pieces came to rest in Draco's sacred hair. 

Thus began a full on war.

They were expelled forcefully from the diner with a request never to come back. 

It was all quite entertaining and entailed a great deal of laughter between the two of them. It was with contentment that Harry bid goodbye to Draco at the door of his apartment building at six am on a Saturday. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and the dogs waited expectantly at the top of the stairs.

"What are you going to do?" asked Draco curiously.

"Sleep, for a long, long while."

Draco moaned wistfully at the thought. "That sounds lovely. I think I'll do the same."

Harry smiled. "Thanks. For putting up with me, I mean."

A smirk. "It was a horrible burden that I bared with the bravery and courageousness of fifty Gryffindors."

"You are a veritable powerhouse of generosity."

"Quite."

There was a pause in which they both stared at their own feet, and Harry jingled his keys in his pocket.

"Well, I'm off," said Draco finally. "It was a pleasure, Potter. We should do this again sometime." 

Harry snorted. "What? Wander around in parks until dawn and then get kicked out of diners for improper use of bacon?"

"Precisely. Goodnight, Harry."

He Apparated away with a sharp pop.

"Good morning, Draco," Harry said into nothing. Within minutes he was up the stairs and within seconds after that he was wrapped in bed, having fallen asleep far too quickly to contemplate the odd happenings of the past ten hours or so.

**** 

Time passed in which Harry was quite busy. Work was insane with the moving of the World Cup pitch, and he was enduring a great deal of criticism for his decision. Hermione was in Spain for almost two weeks and he'd literally had to bribe Pansy and Ron with good tickets to the Cup to get them to watch the girls while he worked.

In fact, he was so engaged he'd nearly forgotten all about the dinner party and the following events until almost a month later. He was wandering around Diagon Alley on his lunch hour when he passed by the alley that connected Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. 

A reminiscent smile fell over his face and he made a hairpin decision, veering from his course to Florean Fortescue's and heading instead to the little shop between the alleys. He gazed up at the relatively new looking sign above the door.

_Caffeinated Literature_, it read. Harry chuckled at it, imagining a novel written by some eccentric author with a caffeine high.

When he entered the shop was lit with bright overhead lamps, though without the neon superficiality of most chain stores. It was comfortable and a handful of people occupied the various chairs, couches, and tables. Harry was distantly reminded of the Hogwarts library plus the warm scent of coffee. He wondered if Draco had taken that into consideration when he'd done the decorating…perhaps even done it deliberately. 

He made his way over to a shelf, scanning the titles there, looking for anything that caught his eye. A woman in a black dress and apron approached him, offering to take his order. He smiled at her winningly.  

"I'll have just a plain coffee, sugar, no cream and –"

He paused when he saw her staring amazedly at his forehead. He bit back a sigh. "Miss?"

"Huh? Oh, of course. Plain coffee, sugar and no cream. Right away, Mr. Potter."

He really did sigh this time and he reached and tapped her shoulder as she moved to bustle away. She looked shell shocked. 

"Also, I was wondering if you could tell me if the owner is in?"

It took a moment for her to register what he was saying. "Oh! Yes, he's here. He's taking his break in a few minutes though. Would you like me to get him for you?"

"Yes, please," he answered, turning back to the shelf.

He pulled a book that looked interesting, _The Secret Lives of the Hogwarts Founders: A Fictional Novel by Oliver Plitnik, and flipped open the cover, reading the inside flap. _

"Interesting book that, Plitnik had quite an imagination…lot of love triangles though. At times it reads like a bad soap opera," said a voice over his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to rest his gaze upon Draco Malfoy. The blond man was dressed casually in a black button-up shirt and a pair of jeans. It was an interesting change from the formal wear of the dinner party.

"I hope you realize that the entire staff is in an uproar because of you," he said scowling slightly; his eyes were smiling. "_Harry Potter is in the shop."_

Harry laughed and glanced over at the counter where the girl who waited on him was whispering to another girl working cash register. He put the book back.

"If you're looking for fictional works on the founders I could direct you to a simply breath-taking novel by-"

"No thanks, I was just browsing," Harry said, cutting him off.

"Ah well, it was worth a try. Never pass an opportunity for a sale," said Draco, smirking. 

"Of course."

The girl returned with his coffee and handed it to him, barely managing not to spill it her hand was shaking so badly. Draco watched her with an amused smile playing on his lips while Harry paid the girl and agreed to sign her order pad.

Once she had left he spoke again. "I was just about to take my break. Care to join me?"

Harry shrugged, sipping the hot liquid out of the large ceramic mug. "Sure." 

"Brilliant, Leaky Cauldron?" asked Draco, taking hold of Harry's upper arm and steering him toward the door.

"Sounds good," said Harry, following along.

"Perhaps later I can get you to sign some of your biographies? There are quite a few…"

The Leaky Cauldron was packed for lunch hour. Wizards and witches from all walks of life were chatting and having drinks, populating the dark pub. Harry was just about to pull Draco over to a table before he lost him when a high-pitched voice pierced his ears.

"Draco!"

Draco turned toward the voice, as did Harry. It was a girl, no more than twenty-five and she was charging at Draco with her arms wide open for a hug. Harry winced.

"Trisha!" Draco said cheerfully in a far less shattering volume and tone. "I haven't seen you in awhile; how've you been?"

"Oh you know, same old," she said, smirking in a way which made Harry quite certain the girl had at one time been a Slytherin. Her hair was light brown and she had a mousy face with tiny dark eyes. He was frighteningly reminded of Peter Pettigrew, only prettier and in female form. He would have thought it was Pettigrew's daughter if he didn't sincerely doubt that the man had ever procreated.

"Who's this, Draco? You're new beau? My he's handsome! What's his name?"

Draco actually laughed, while Harry blushed and shook his head furiously. 

"He's not my new beau; I don't even have a new beau. This is an old school friend of mine. Trisha Marks, meet Harry Potter."

Harry's eye twitched and he waited for the repeat.

"Harry Potter!"

There it was…and now the 'wow'.

"Oh wow, never thought I'd meet you, Harry. What on earth are you doing hanging about with riffraff like Draco?" she said and began cackling in a way which made Harry wonder if he was going to have an appetite for lunch.  

"Just joking of course," she added.

Harry smiled weakly. "Nice to meet you," he said politely. 

"Oh Draco, guess who's here! You'll never guess!"

"Who?" said Draco, sounding un-amused with a guessing game.

"Look, just over there. It's Brian," hissed the girl, smirking as if she'd just told him something of great import – which apparently she had judging by Draco's reaction.

His eyes went wide and he stumbled back a few steps. "Oh, imagine that..."

Harry focused his gaze on where she'd pointed. A man stood at the bar, about ten feet away, laughing at something one of his three companions had said. He was a tall, broad shouldered man, with chestnut hair that fell over his forehead and piercing ice-blue eyes. He looked almost like a model, Harry mused.

He was pulled out of his musings by Draco, who turned his panicked eyes on Harry. "You know, Harry this place is pretty crowded, how about we go someplace else for lunch, huh? I'm sure you know some great places, why don't we just…Yes, it was nice seeing you again, Trisha, right." 

He was talking very quickly and Harry barely had time to realize what was going on before he was pushed, pulled, and tugged through the crowd and out the front door onto the Muggle sidewalk, streaming with people.

"Draco, what –"

"Where do you want to go?" asked the blond. He seemed much less panicked now that they were out of the Leaky Cauldron.  He was acting as if nothing unusual had happened at all. 

"Well, my car's just up here. There's this diner just –" Harry cut himself off, frowning. "Never mind, we've been banned from there. I know another place but it's a little farther away."

"That's fine with me, if you've got time," said Draco shrugging. 

Harry nodded and pulled out his keys, pointing out the car to him.

Once inside Harry buckled his seat belt and started the ignition. He glanced over at Draco. "Aren't you going to wear your seat belt?"

Draco rolled his eyes but complied.

They weren't on the road two seconds before Draco was leaning over and fiddling with the radio dials.

"Oh, I have that dial set specifical-"

"Shut up, Harry." Harry did.

Draco grinned as a station he liked came in clear and leaned back in his seat. Harry wrinkled his nose.  

"Who _is_ that? _Elton John?"_

"Do you have a problem with Elton John, Potter?" asked Draco, staring ahead stonily.

"Well…not really, but –"

"Because if you have a problem with Elton John I may have to kill you," he said, and he didn't look like he was joking.

Harry swallowed, trying to keep his eyes on the road. "Uh…well I –"

He stopped when Draco burst into laughter. Then he glared.

"Yeah, ha-ha, very funny."

"It is, though. You're too easy, Potter," he said shaking his head. "Really though, how can you not like this song?" 

Harry considered it, his eyes focused on the car in front of him. "I don't understand it, I think," he said finally.

Draco frowned, obviously trying to find a way to explain _Tiny Dancer to someone like Harry. At least that's how Harry felt and he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat.  _

"Well…I always thought it was pretty obvious. It's about this girl that traveled with the band and she was a dancer, obviously, but…well, it's more about love than anything else. This girl loved this guy in the band and they were together and… here, listen to the lyrics. It's really not that complicated. You probably just only heard the chorus." He leaned down and turned up the volume a bit. 

Harry nodded. "Well…yeah."

"Plus it's set in America, something you know nothing about."

"Hey! I've seen films…"

Draco snorted.

"Oh, so you've been there, then?" said Harry patronizingly.

"After Father kicked me out, I went there…for a couple of years. You know the Wizarding World is so much more integrated into the Muggle over there. Music, cars, movies…that sort of thing is universal to both worlds in America."

"That's interesting," Harry stated musingly.

There was silence, punctuated by Draco singing along to the song. It ended eventually and as it did Harry was pulling up to the restaurant parking lot. 

"So who was that girl in the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked, turning off the car.

"Who, Trisha?" Draco snorted. "Second cousin by marriage." 

"And…the guy?" Harry continued tentatively. Draco stiffened visibly. 

"It…nobody, it's not important, let's just go in," he said, throwing open his car door. Of course when he attempted to get up he'd forgotten that he'd put on the seat belt at Harry's request and thus got pulled back in with a thump when his head hit the top of the car. Cursing, he undid the belt, or tried to at least.

Harry fought not to snicker, he really did.

"It's stuck! Harry, the damned belt is stuck!" Draco looked up and found Harry sitting in the driver's seat with his hand over his mouth to cover the curl in his lips. He glared daggers at him. "What is so funny?"

Harry snorted loudly with the effort to keep in the laughter and it all came rushing out. Draco stared at him a moment with a blank face.

"Tell me you didn't just snort. _Please tell me you did not just snort."_

Harry snorted again and collapsed in silent laughter against the back of the seat. 

"It's really not that funny," Draco interjected.

After a moment, Harry sobered enough to speak. "Um…it's not stuck. You have to push the button on the top, not the side. The button on the side adjusts it." 

Draco glared at him while he pressed the button on the top and the seat belt came undone with a soft click. 

Everything would have been just fine for Harry, had he not forgotten about the fact that he had to remove his _own seatbelt and ended up doing the exact thing Draco had just done sans the stuck buckle. Draco teased him mercilessly the whole time they were waiting to be seated._

"So how are the girls?" asked the blond, while the waiter set their drinks in front of them and Draco had decided he'd tortured Harry sufficiently

Harry was a bit surprised by the question; having forgotten Draco even knew the girls existed and it occurred to him that had it not been for Brittany, he wouldn't even be here right now, having lunch with Draco Malfoy.

"They're fine; they're with Hermione actually. Next week they'll be staying with Molly Weasley. She takes them and Ron's girls every summer for a week."

"That's Weasel's mother, right?"

"Yes," replied Harry, scowling at the old name.

"Do you see them much - your daughters I mean?" asked Draco with a hint of sympathy. 

"Well, I have them most weekends. I didn't see them much last Saturday because Seamus took them out for ice cream. They were a mess when they got home…I guess I should have known better." 

Draco frowned. "Seamus, Seamus…you mean Finnigan? He's still around?"

"Yeah, he works in my office. Broom regulations." 

The other man coughed and it sounded suspiciously like 'flamer'. Harry wondered vaguely what that meant and realized he was probably just hearing something that wasn't there.

"Have you ever wanted kids?" he asked finally, quietly.

"Well…yes. When I was younger I always said I wanted a big family," he said, shrugging. "I guess when I grew up and realized that I fancy men the idea left of its own volition." 

Harry nodded in understanding.

There was silence for awhile before the waiter came to take their order. It wasn't until after their food had arrived that the conversation took an interesting turn.

"Do you have any Elton John MCD's?" asked Harry, swallowing a bite of his sandwich. MCD's were Magical Compact Discs…one too many young wizards tired of not having a way in which to listen to music.

"Yeah, a few. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could borrow one, or two. I mean…if you say he's good, I suppose I could give him a try," he said a bit shyly.

Draco smiled brightly. "'Course you can. I'll drop them by sometime this weekend."

Harry smiled back, pleased and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Harry?" asked Draco quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I know you told me all about your problems with Granger that night at the party and - well, I guess I should tell you who that guy was at the Leaky Cauldron." 

"Huh?" Harry stated thickly. Then it clicked. "Oh! No, no, you don't have to if you're not comfortab-"

He waved a hand, silencing Harry. "It's okay. It's really not that big of a deal, I'm just…still kind of weirded by it all. Brian was…my boyfriend, of sorts. We'd been together for a long time and, well, he always had a bit of a temper. But I never thought he'd actually lash out at _me, you know. I'd never thought __I  could possibly be put into the 'abusive relationship' position. Then one day I guess I was bitching a bit too obnoxiously…and he did."_

He frowned, thinking and Harry didn't even think twice when reaching out a hand to place over his. "I'm sorry, Draco." 

"No, don't apologize! I-I'm fine about it, really. I ran out of the house the minute he left the room, I had a restraining order put on him and moved out. I had to get out of there, too many memories; so I went to room with a few friends. 

"The charm's supposed to last a year. I don't know if you know this but Wizard restraining orders are a lot like Muggle repellent charms, only it's just a little twinge he feels that gets more intense as he gets closer. If he touches me it's supposed to Apparate him straight to the Ministry."

Harry nodded that he understood.

"I don't know what I'm scared of. It's not like me to be afraid of…well anything. And I know the charm will hold but he's still…so much bigger than me," he said, taking a shuddery breath. "I haven't talked to him since that night and he could still be pissed at me. He could _break me, and he knows it. The year will be up in a month and a half, and I still don't know if I should go and renew it. On the one hand, he could have forgotten all about it, and having the Ministry drag him in to apply another charm may just stir up even more bad feelings. On the other hand he's been brooding over it all year and the minute that charm wears off he's going to come looking for me."_

There was a tense silence and Harry actually shivered. He jumped and pulled his hand back quick as a flash when the waiter came with their check.  They each paid for their own meals and exited the restaurant. 

They chatted easily about other things on the ride back to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was about to drop Draco off in front, and drive back to work when he glanced at the man. He was staring shakily at the door of the pub, as if afraid of what he'd find inside.

"Let me walk you back to the shop," he offered.

"Oh no, you don't have to –"

"Nonsense. I have to sign those biographies, remember?" Harry winked at him.

Draco let out a shaky sigh. "Yeah…thanks."

Harry pulled up to the curb and parked.

"Don't think on it." 

The trip to the shop was without event, no sign of Brian. Harry even signed a few of the books. He returned to work that day with a cheerful smile on his face.

***************************** 

A.N. Well that's it for Chapter two, I'd love to get a few reviews for this, it was ever so nice to have some for the first chapter. And third chapter is *already* written and on it's way to the betas.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Unforeseen Alliance  
  
Author: DeannaJean  
  
Pairing: Harry/Draco eventually, and Ron/Pansy.  
  
Archive: Sure, just let me know.  
  
Spoilers: All Books  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. They're all property of J.K. Rowling and Schoolastic and all those other people. I just like to tamper.  
  
  


***************************

Ron and Pansy sat in their den, chamber music playing softly in the background. Other then that and the tiny voices of the chess pieces, all was quiet in the residence. 

"Check," said Ron quietly, after ordering his piece to its place.

Pansy glared at him and opened her mouth to respond when there was a soft knock on the door. She turned to direct her glare furiously at the house elf that was interrupting her quiet time with her husband.

"Tilla! What have I told you about disrupting between the hours of seven and ten?" she snapped.

Ron reached out and placed a calming hand on Pansy's. The elf fidgeted most annoyingly and Pansy gritted her teeth.  

"Tilla is begging Mrs. Weasley's pardon, ma'am, but Tilla has been sent to get Mrs. Weasley, ma'am. Mr. Malfoy is in the fire and he is saying so, ma'am." 

"What does that git want now," Ron complained.

"He is not saying Mr. Weasley, sir," replied the elf.  

Pansy sighed and rose from her chair, leaning down to place a kiss on Ron's forehead. "I'll be right back, love."

Her husband nodded and she exited the room, her heels clicking on the stone floors as she followed the elf. They only kept one fireplace open for Floo and that was the one in the study, which was where she was going now.  

Back in the den, Ron watched her leave before returning his gaze to the board, his mind drifting into a world of chess strategies and mappings. Therefore he didn't notice that Pansy was back until she cleared her throat and he looked up to find her seated in her chair again, ready to continue the game.

"So what did Ferret Face want?"

Pansy made a disapproving face. "Nothing, dear."  

"Malfoy doesn't call for idle chit-chat. He wanted _something." _

Pansy mumbled something intelligible and ordered her piece to move, knowing there was no way she could beat her husband at the game of chess this time, despite the many times before when she had.  Ron frowned at her and ordered his final play.

"Checkmate," he said, still frowning. "It just sounded like you said he wanted a fairy's headdress. What does that mean?"

"I said he wanted _Harry's address_," she corrected him, and shut her eyes, ready for his response. "Apparently he'd forgotten it."

"_What_? What does he want that for?"

"To visit him, or send a letter, or something vaguely resembling contact. I don't quite see how it's any of your business, Ronald Weasley," she snapped, not really feeling in the mood to deal with her husband's ranting.

"Not my business? Harry's my friend and you just gave that white-haired git the ability to drop in on him whenever he feels like it!" 

Pansy smirked. "Ron, darling, you know that Draco hasn't been a git for _ages_. When are you going to sacrifice your pride and admit he's not that bad of a guy anymore?"

"Never," grumbled Ron, irritated.

"Right, I'm going to say one thing and then I'm going to go up and take my bath and I don't want to hear any ridiculous arguments to the contrary," she stated firmly, standing from her chair and heading towards the door. "Perhaps Harry would _like_ Draco to drop in on him once in a while."

And with that she left the den leaving Ron quietly mulling over what she said, before shaking his head with a scrunched up face and leaving the room as well. 

**** 

Harry awoke Saturday morning and immediately shuffled his way to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him like every morning. 

The girls were awake already, as he could tell by the blaring volume of the television. To be honest, he was surprised they weren't still sleeping. The weekend before they'd been at Molly Weasley's and now they were spoiled with late sleeping and staying up all night. In fact, the night before they'd had a late-night movie party in which they had stayed up watching Disney movies until the early hours. Harry had drifted off at 12:30, somewhere near the beginning of _Winnie the Pooh's Grand Adventure, which he hadn't really found all that grand.  There was now, no doubt, a huge mess littering the floor, sleeping bags, blankets and pillows, along with scattered popcorn and movie boxes._

Harry groaned groggily as he exited the bathroom, made his way into the living room, and studied the scene that lay before him. 

Yup, living room was definitely a mess, the girls were mesmerized by whatever was on TV but something didn't fit…There was something odd about it and Harry's sleep fogged mind was trying to decipher that…then it clicked. 

Draco Malfoy was settled on the floor in front of the couch between Kimberly and Asia, Brittany settled on his lap, all of them surrounded by sleeping bags and blankets of purple and pink and pillows of the same colors. Cordelia was lounging behind them across the couch and Shakespeare and Plato were panting contentedly on a sleeping bag. Of course Draco would be the first to notice Harry's presence and the blond man smirked, taking in his appearance: severely bed-draggled hair, a pair of red-plaid pajama pants and a wrinkled white tee-shirt. 

"Good morning, Potter!" he said in an overly cheerful tone.

"Gngh," Harry barely managed as he shuffled further into the room. "What are you doing here?"

"I had some things to do over at the shop and I thought I'd get them done this morning, instead of waiting until Monday, you know? I was heading over there and I thought I might as well stop over here and drop off those MCD's you wanted to borrow while I was at it. Of course when I showed up, you weren't awake yet, and the girls invited me in to watch cartoons and I just couldn't resist."  

Harry blinked, his mind trying to register all that, and said nothing as Draco reached back and took the bowl of stale popcorn from Cordelia and took a handful before handing it back. The blond man swallowed and continued.

"I've been here for about two hours now. My roommates won't let me get a telly. I haven't watched Saturday morning cartoons since I lived in the States…I'd forgotten how violent they were."  All of this he said with his eyes never leaving the TV.

Harry blinked again; still standing slightly shocked in the doorway to the living room.

Draco went on to state that the coyote that was constantly chasing 'that bird' vaguely reminded him of himself plotting against Harry. Had Harry been coherent, he probably would have laughed.

Instead he took a few more steps into the living room and collapsed into the unoccupied armchair. He was dimly aware of his state of dress, and the fact that he cared at all was slightly disturbing.

Finally he thought of something to say that made sense. 

"Girls, what did I tell you about letting people into the flat when I'm not here?"

Asia veered her eyes away from the television long enough to look up at him in surprise. "But you were here, Dad, you were just sleeping," she stated matter-of-factly.  

Harry had to agree that she had him there. He cursed himself for being out-smarted by a child, not for the first time.

"Then from now on, don't let anyone in unless I'm here and _awake." He didn't mention that if someone _did_ come to the door they should wake him up, because in all honesty he didn't really want to be woken up._

Draco turned to look at him, seeming mildly affronted. "You object to my presence?" he asked.

Harry sighed; it was too early in the morning (noon) to have a sense of humor. "Not yours, no. But what if it'd been some vicious psycho killer instead?"

"Vicious psycho killers don't knock, Dad," stated Cordelia from the couch, not looking away from the TV as she popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"She has a point Harry," Draco offered.

Harry glared, but there was no menace in it. "Nobody asked you."

Draco shrugged and scooted over to make a spot between himself and Asia. He patted the carpet, eyes still glued to the TV. Harry debated for about a second before giving in and plopping down to watch TV, reaching back for a handful of stale popcorn from the bowl.

He ate a few pieces, decided that stale popcorn was very nasty, and on a whim, threw the rest of the pieces at Draco. 

"Hey!" shouted the blond. He then high-jacked the bowl from Cordelia and proceeded to retaliate. 

It soon progressed into an all out popcorn war. Draco, Brittany and Cordelia on one side of the couch, and Harry, Kimberly, and Asia on the other, with the couch cushions propped up around them for good measure. 

Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd ever have an encounter with Draco that didn't include a food fight. This one was a bit more one sided then the last however due to the fact that Draco's side had the bowl of popcorn, and all Harry's side had was the bits they retrieved after being hit with them.

The war finally ended when Harry's side surrendered; a white sock tied to the remote control was waved.  

However, when Harry went forth to shake hands with Draco, Draco proceeded to overturn the entire bowl (mostly containing seeds and butter-grease) onto Harry's head. Draco's team began dancing around the living room shouting things like 'We're unbeatable' and 'We will never surrender,' half of which was shouted by Brittany who didn't even understand what she was saying, and all of which was pretty ridiculous as it was quite obvious that they'd won anyway. 

All the while, Harry was attempting not to seethe at his former enemy, who even after so many years, had not learned that gloating was not the way of being a 'good winner'.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco asked snickering and swinging an arm over Harry's shoulders.

"I need a shower," said Harry tonelessly. He watched as the girls once again became entranced by whatever it was that played on the television, still beaning each other with pieces of popped corn once and awhile.

"Yes. You smell like butter and you've got little seeds in your hair," agreed the blond, accentuating his point by plucking a small seed from Harry's now greasy hair. "The Snape-look suits you, Harry."

"Does not," said Harry scowling. "Besides, it's your fault."

Draco laughed and removed his arm, releasing Harry. "You're right," he said, then frowned. "I've got to get going, I really should have been at the shop by now."

"You're leaving?" Harry asked, and then realized how disappointed he sounded.

Pale eyebrows raised into Draco's hairline. "You want me to stay?"

"Erm… not exactly," Harry stuttered, wondering why on earth he was blushing like he was.  "Only that I was about to make pancakes for the girls, and I thought you might want to stick around."

He had, of course, been planning no such thing.

"If you think there will be enough…I guess I could stay for breakfast," said Draco smiling cheerfully and plopping down on the couch next to Cordelia to continue watching cartoons.  Plato leaped onto the couch and settled into the blond's lap.

Harry shook his head in bemusement and headed into the kitchen to start on the pancakes he had somehow talked himself into making for a reason he couldn't figure out. He sincerely hoped that he had all the ingredients.

A quick check of the cupboards and the fridge told him he did. Breakfast was interesting, if not a bit traumatic for Harry. The six of them sat around the wooden table munching on pancakes, chattering about various things. But then Cordelia spoke up.  

"Mr. Malfoy?" she asked hesitantly.

"You can call me Draco," he said, smirking amusedly at her as he sipped on his pumpkin juice. 

Cordelia blushed. "Okay…Draco. Melissa Flint told me that the Malfoys were really powerful dark wizards until the youngest heir turned into a que-" 

"_Cordelia_!" Harry burst out, scandalized, thankfully cutting her off before she could finish. He glanced worriedly at Draco who, instead of looking angry or uncomfortable was staring calmly back at the young Slytherin.

"That's what she said!" Cordelia yelled at her father defensively.  There was a pause in conversation.

"Queer?" asked Draco softly. Cordelia nodded, looking slightly ashamed. Which, Harry thought, glaring at her, she should be. 

"I-is that you?" she asked, not meeting his eye. The other girls were all peering at Draco too, silently soaking in the conversation. Their facial expressions were not shocked and Harry guessed that they had probably discussed this amongst themselves already.

Draco nodded, smirking at the young girl. "It is. Except that I am no less powerful than I would have been, had I been attracted to women. Do you understand?"

Cordelia nodded again. She opened her mouth, probably to ask another question, but Harry cut her off.

"Why don't you four start on the dishes?"

The Potter girls groaned.

"But Dad, you can do them with magic!"

"No 'but dad's. You all need to learn a little responsibility. You can't rely on magic for _everything_."

"Truer words…" Draco put in with a sigh and stood up.

Harry walked him toward the door.

"I apologize for Delia, she should know better than to say things like that."

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the closed front door lazily. "Don't, she was curious."

"Still, she should know better than to pry," said Harry earnestly.

"Okay, Dad," Draco shot back, smirking. 

Harry pretended to ignore the prod and smiled. "Thank you for dropping by the MCD's. Though I probably won't get a chance to listen to them until after Hermione picks up the girls tomorrow."

"It was no problem. You more than made up for it with breakfast. I'll stop by sometime next week to pick them up, if that's alright?"

"Sure," said Harry, distinctly not meeting Draco's eye.

Draco smirked amusedly but didn't say anything. He stopped leaning against the door and opened it a crack. 

"Go take a shower, Wonder Boy, you still smell like butter."

Harry snorted. "Don't call me Wonder Boy." 

Draco smirked again and slipped out the door, leaving behind a slightly bemused, slightly confused, Harry Potter.

****  

Harry's single-story flat was relatively simple, all of it covered with the same pale beige carpet, save the kitchen, which was laid with a similar tan-ish vinyl tile. 

The entire room was decorated in various blues that never matched completely but enough so that it looked somewhat coordinated.

Harry was just settling into the couch on Sunday evening after the girls had been Flooed off home, contemplating putting one of Draco's Elton John MCD's into the player when the fireplace started rumbling in a way that indicated someone was about to Floo in.

He stood, facing it, wondering who could be coming to visit him at this time of day. He was, understandably, completely thrown when what looked like a rope fell onto the brick, un-lit fireplace. He was even more surprised when the 'rope' slithered out onto the living room carpet. This assisted him in realizing that it wasn't a rope at all, but a snake. 

It came to a stop at his feet and rose up, beginning to hiss softly. Harry heard it loud and clear.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

"I am," Harry replied hesitantly back in Parseltongue.   

"I come bearing you a message, Harry Potter," it hissed.

"From who?" Harry hissed back, completely baffled.

"That is classified information," it said firmly.

Harry frowned, becoming increasingly confused. "What message?"

"You are to give yourself up to my master without struggle, and nobody will be harmed."

"And how am I supposed to 'give myself up' if you can't tell me who it is I am giving myself up to?" he asked, frown deepening.

"I do not know, I come only to deliver the message. I do not answer questions."

"But-" Harry began, but it was too late, the snake disappeared with a pop, startling him enough to jump.

He was silent a long moment as he fell back onto the couch again with a flop.

"Huh…"

He was at a complete loss. He could make neither head nor tail of what the snake had meant. Give himself up? Of course it couldn't be Voldemort…the man was long dead. Yet who else would send a snake with a message? Who else would be able to speak with a snake in order to communicate the message? It simply didn't fit. 

_'And nobody will be harmed,'_ the snake had said. Surely his friends and family weren't in danger. Whoever it was, they couldn't be very intelligent if they'd sent a message to him to give himself up and hadn't told him to whom.

Perhaps it was just a prank, but even then, it had to have been someone with the ability to speak Parseltongue. It was nearly an extinct talent these days. In fact, the only person Harry knew of to have it other than himself was his own daughter, Kimberly. It had been quite a shock to him when he'd discovered her conversing with a garden snake in the backyard when she was four.  Somehow he had managed to keep it secret from everyone except for her sisters…even Hermione didn't know.

Harry shut his eyes to consider it all, but soon he was fast asleep. He would wake the next morning with a crick in his neck, still worrying over what had happened.

**** 

The next day, as Harry sat at his desk, shuffling through the papers on broom stick regulations that Seamus had sent over for his approval, he contemplated telling Ron or Hermione about the incident. He really didn't want to work anybody up over it, especially if it turned out to be some stupid prank. However, his mind kept pushing for him to be safe, rather than sorry.  

But he simply couldn't put the effort of thought into it, not with the moving of the World Cup Quidditch pitch in a couple days and also with the match itself to plan for. This would be the first time England had hosted the Cup since Harry's fourth year, and he planned on paying a bit more attention to it than Ludo Bagman had.

In the mind of Quidditch, he also had to do some practicing. The M.G.A.S. monthly Quidditch game was taking place that coming Saturday. Every month the Department of Magical Games and Sports held a Quidditch game. It was always a nice change from seeing the others in an office-centric atmosphere, and a good work out as almost all of them had played Quidditch at one point, but never really got the chance to play anymore.

Harry heaved a sigh as Nora clicked into the room in her high-heels and dropped another giant folder on his desk.

"The reports for the Quodpot teams from Jerry Hayes, Mr. Potter," she said giving him a cheerful smile.

"Oh, thanks," Harry stated, not without sarcasm.

With another sigh he pulled the folder toward him and flipped it open, scanning the contents.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Harry glanced up at his secretary. "A cup of tea would be nice, if you're not too busy."

Nora just smiled at him. "Of course I'm not. You hardly ever give me any work, I've got to do something," she chided him before disappearing out the door again.  

Harry stared at the door with a frown on his face.  Several times since the big dinner party at Ron's, Harry had contemplated why exactly it was that he hadn't dated anyone since Hermione. It wasn't as if he'd never had the opportunity, Seamus _and Ron had attempted to goad him into asking Nora out, as well as a few other women around the office (which he didn't really think was a good idea; could make for a tricky situation if things turned out badly). _

Ever since his discussion with Draco on the subject of dating he couldn't help but examine the matter further, trying to discern what it was that held him back from dating.

So far all he'd come up with was that he just wasn't interested, but that wasn't true precisely either. Harry couldn't count the number of times he'd wished there was somebody else there with him at the flat, or that he had somebody to share nights out with. No matter how badly he dreamed of it though, when it came down to going after what he wanted…he hesitated. Somehow it would just never seem right.

It seemed a great cycle of counter production, one that he really couldn't find the will to break. And perhaps, things had been the same so long that he really didn't want to change it. But then again, that could just be an excuse to take no action on the matter.

Harry snapped out of his musings when Nora returned with his tea. He smiled and thanked her, considered asking her to join him for a second and decided against it a second later, allowing her to walk out the door. A classic example.

He was beginning to realize that for as much as he loved the comfort of his life, things were beginning to settle down around him. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to settle down just yet.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, sipping the tea and turning to the Quodpot team reports. "'Mione was right. I can't be content to live a normal life."

What Harry _didn't_ realize, was how not-normal his life was about to become.

**** 

The week seemed to creep by and the work seemed to bog him down more and more. On a last ditch attempt for sanity, Harry had dinner at Ron and Pansy's Friday night. 

It was a nice change from the take-out he'd been having. Pansy was a perfectly wonderful hostess: a quality, Harry was surprised to find, that most Slytherin's prided themselves on. After dinner in the den, Pansy brought up a topic of conversation that had been hovering over all of them all night.  

"So, Harry, Draco Flooed me the other day for your address; I do hope he got in touch with you?"

"Oh," said Harry, mildly shocked that Draco would go to all that trouble simply to lend him some MCD's. "Yeah, he stopped by last Saturday."

"Good," Pansy said cheerfully and Harry quirked an eyebrow. Pansy had an odd look in her eye…

"I know that look," said Ron, and Harry was amused to see he had a resigned look on his face. "Now what are you thinking and/or plotting?"

"Ronald Weasley, I am most certainly not plotting. How dare you accuse me of something like that," the woman exclaimed, looking offended, but Harry noted the twinkle in her eye.

Ron scowled. "If it involves Malfoy at all you can leave me out of it, you understand?" 

Pansy sighed and opened her mouth to speak, Harry got there first.  

"What do you have against him, Ron?" he said curiously.

"Harry, you've gone nutters. Remember? Luring us out of our dorms to get us in trouble in the middle of the night, pranking us non-stop, _insulting us?"_

Harry was amused. "He was an incessant little prat, wasn't he?"

"Of course he-Harry, why are you smiling?"

"Because I also seem to remember your current wife assisting him in quite a few of those pranks and insults. Not to mention the retaliation was just as bad, if not worse, in most cases."

Pansy grinned at him. "Oh thank you, Harry! You know I've been trying to get that point across for years and he is still over-flowing with hate for poor Draco."

Ron scowled, but he seemed quieted on the subject. 

Harry had to fight not to snicker; despite what he'd just said, he highly doubted Draco would take kindly to being referred to as 'poor', in any sense of the word. He then realized that since his defense of Draco, Pansy was beaming at him unnervingly. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, wondering what the cause.

"Ah bugger," said Harry standing abruptly. "It's almost midnight, and I have the match early tomorrow afternoon. You know how I like to sleep." 

"You're still doing the matches?" asked Ron, in a way that sounded as if he was jealous that Harry got to participate in a Quidditch game on a regular basis. 

"Of course; it keeps me on my toes. Never thought I'd get stuck with a desk job…"

Ron stood as well, patting him on the shoulder. "Good luck, mate."

At the door Harry thanked him, bid goodbye to Pansy and waved at Marigold and Violet who were peaking down at them through the bars of the staircase. They waved back, not at all ashamed of their spying. Harry was surprised that neither of them were in Slytherin (instead both resided in Ravenclaw).  

He made his way to his car and he was soon home and climbing into bed. He was exhausted, but finally the rest of the week and all the work he'd done could slip away and he was left with the prospect of a sporting Quidditch match the next day, and a weekend to relax.

**** 

Saturday morning, and Harry was running late. He skidded around the bend from the hallway into the kitchen, trying to buckle his arm guards and not spill coffee on his freshly-clean Quidditch robes simultaneously. 

"Oi, Harry! Harry!" a voice called from the living room and Harry poked his head back through the kitchen door. Angelina Johnson's head was hovering in the fireplace. Angelina was a chaser on his team. The teams were divided into the bosses, and the underlings. It actually proved to work well as where the older team had more experience long-term wise, the younger team was usually fresh out of Hogwarts, and had been getting much more practice than the other. 

Harry frowned, was he that late that he was holding up the game?

"Sorry, Angie, didn't see you there. What's up?"

Angelina sighed sadly. "It looks like we have to cancel the match, Harry."

"What!? Why ?"

"Shay's sick; apparently it's the flu. Poor guy can't even get out of bed. And you know we can't play without a keeper," she stated miserably; Angelina had always loved the monthly matches, though in the long run it was poor compensation for choosing not to play Quidditch professionally.

"Shit, bugger," Harry cursed, slamming his coffee cup down on the end table by the couch. "You're telling me you can't find anybody to fill in?"

"Not on this short of notice. The game is in fifteen minutes and nobody from the department wants to do it, as we've lost the last three months."

"What about somebody who's not in the department? Surely just a fill in wouldn't have to work for us…"

"You're the captain, Harry, not to mention the head of the department," she said with an amused smile.  

"Brilliant, so the match isn't cancelled. I'll find someone to fill in for Seamus," Harry stated cheerfully.

"Good luck," Angelina said, still looking amused. "I'll let the others know. And hurry up, you're already late!"  

With a laugh, her head disappeared from the fire. Harry frowned the minute she was gone.

_Brilliant indeed. Nice work, Harry. You've got less than fifteen minutes to find someone to play keeper. How the hell are you going to do that?_

Somebody knocked on his front door. Harry jumped visibly and went to open it. It was Draco.

_I am the luckiest wizard on the planet, _Harry thought__

"Hello, Potter, just stopping to pick up-Why are you wearing Quidditch robes?"

He stood in the entryway, frowning at Harry's attire. Harry grinned at his luck, grabbing hold of Draco's arm and dragging him into the apartment.

"Do you know how to play keeper?"

"Erm…yes. I can play most positions. Not very good at playing chaser though…" he mused. "Why do you ask?"

"The M.G.A.S. monthly Quidditch game. Our Keeper's sick, and I have to find a replacement. You just happened to wander in at the right time."

"The _wrong_ time you mean. Harry, I haven't played Quidditch in _years. I can't do this," Draco refused shaking his head. _

Harry frowned. "I'm not going to be able to find another replacement in fifteen minutes. You've got to do this." He paused, knowing he couldn't avoid saying it any longer. "Please?"

Instantly Draco's trademark smirk appeared. "Hmm…I suppose since you've begged me so, Potter, I could…for you," he added. 

Flustered for some reason, Harry began to bustle them out the door. "We'd better go now, before we're any later. We'll find some robes for you at the pitch."

"Where is it?" asked Draco curiously as he and Harry exited the apartment. Harry just grinned.

**** 

"Bloody hell," the blond gaped, gazing around the gigantic stadium. "You get to play on the Cannon's pitch?"

"It is one of the advantages," said Harry, beaming proudly. "Come on, let's get you suited up."

He pulled Draco into the locker-room where the team was buzzing around looking panicked. When Harry entered they all turned to him with hopeful looks.

"Did you find anyone, Harry?" Angelina asked, approaching him. Then her eyes fell on Draco, standing next to him. She blinked, looking as if she were making sure she saw right the first time.

Also in the locker-room were the other four members of the team. There was George Weasley, one of their beaters, who headed the sect of broomstick regulations in collaboration with Seamus Finnigan. Cho Chang was there, she had taken a position as chaser since Harry had obviously gotten seeker, and also headed off the foreign liaisons sect of the department. Lee Jordan was present; he played their second beater, he worked their pitch regulation section and also worked as a go-between between their department and that of the Department of Planning and Development of Magical Establishments. And finally there was Jerry Hayes, their third chaser, a former Ravenclaw who had graduated a year after Harry and now headed the Quodpot segment of the department; Harry had always found him a rather odd bloke. 

It hadn't occurred to Harry, until just now, that there was a serious lack of Slytherins on their team. He winced, hoping his decision wouldn't be questioned by the others.  

"Erm, I'm sure most of you remember Draco Malfoy," Harry stated into the tension of the room. "He's agreed to play for us, due to Seamus' illness."  

George was the first one to break the silence that followed that statement. "Brilliant, Harry! I'm surprised you found anyone on such short notice. Come on, Malfoy," he said cheerfully enough. "We'll go find you a uniform."  

George steered Draco towards a room off to the side that held the extra uniforms and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Angelina was still looking shell-shocked.

"Harry…" she said quietly. "You're telling me you couldn't find _anyone_ else?"

Harry frowned at her. "He's a friend of mine, Angie. He's nothing like he used to be…and he can play Keeper. You've seen him on broomstick; you can't deny he's got talent."

Angelina sighed. "Fine, fine. You're right of course," she said, giving him a weak smile. "Amazing how childhood rivalries will make you forget you're an adult in the blink of an eye."

Harry thought about that. It seemed that way to most everyone...everyone but him, in any case. He supposed he'd just had time to get used to the fact that Draco Malfoy wasn't as evil as the blond had always had everyone assume.  

Harry took a deep breath and went to his locker, placing his gym bag with a fresh change of clothes into it. He unzipped the bag's side pocket, enchanted with a charm to make it large enough to fit his broom. He rummaged around for awhile before pulling out his favorite broom, he had quite a collection. He then waited for the team to gather round him as they always did. 

Eventually they straggled over, Draco and George appearing last. Harry was pleased to see that they were being moderately civil, though he did catch that Draco was resisting the urge to sneer. Some things, like the Weasley-Malfoy rivalry, would never completely diminish. 

They were all dressed in the Executive (as they called it) team uniforms; dark purple with shiny gold lettering. The Junior team would be wearing light purple, with silver lettering. 

They all gazed at him with rapt attention and Harry went through his customary speech. Nothing new and nothing any other team captain hadn't done before. When he was finished the last thing he did was charm the back of Draco's shirt so it read 'Malfoy' and the team made their way onto the field in a neat line.

The stands held very few spectators spread out through the bleachers, mostly in the front rows of the boxes on eye level with the hoops, as seats were not a difficult thing to get in games such as these. Most of the seats were occupied by family of the team members and members of the Ministry from other departments. 

Harry heard a faint but familiar 'Dad' and squinted up at the stands. He grinned and waved, seeing four small black-haired figures in a line in one of the boxes waving frantically. Next to them was a taller, brown-haired figure, Hermione. Harry was glad she'd brought the girls; it was nice to know they would be there to cheer him on.

The referee, a regular man whom Harry knew by acquaintance, blew the whistle for them to mount their brooms and he did so.  He glanced around at his teammates to see that they did the same. Draco caught his eye and winked and he smiled back before the referee blew the whistle a second time, signaling them to take off.

The fourteen players took to the air in a blur of speed at the liftoff. Harry felt the familiar rush of adrenalin and he grinned, flying up higher above the pitch and watching the teams take their places on the field. 

The referee released the balls and took to the air as well. The Bludgers zoomed off in opposite directions, each one circling a goal post and shooting off in haphazard directions. The Quaffle was caught immediately by one of the Junior teams Chasers and she tore off toward the Executive goal-hoops. 

Harry ducked a Bludger and spun around to watch how Draco handled the position of Keeper. The announcer, none other than Ginny Creevey - freshly back from her honeymoon - kept a close commentary on the progression.

"GRIFFITH STREAKS TOWARD THE EXECUTIVE GOALS GUARDED BY…MERLIN'S BEARD! DRACO MALFOY, FORMER SLYTHERIN AND SEEKER, IS SITTING IN FOR SEAMUS FINNIGAN! LET'S SEE IF HE CAN LIVE UP TO SEAMUS' REPUTATION! OH AND HE'S CAUGHT IT! MALFOY CHUCKS THE QUAFFLE TO CHO CHANG AND THE EXECUTIVES HAVE THE BALL!"  

Harry grinned. So far, so good; he took off to the other side of the field, his eyes darting over the expansive of pitch, always on guard for the snitch and keeping an ear out for the commentary simultaneously. 

"CHANG PASSES TO JOHNSON, WHO PASSES UNDER GRIFFITH BACK TO CHANG AND THEIR AT THE HOOPS…OH! AND A BLUDGER HIT BY DENNIS CREEVEY DEFLECTS CHANG. THE JUNIOR'S DOUCET HAS THE QUAFFLE. EDDY DOUCET IS THE JUNIOR'S STAR CHASER AND BOY IS THAT EVER OBVIOUS BY THE WAY HE'S ZOOMING PAST THE EXEC'S DEFENSE!"

Groaning, Harry, went into a dive to bring himself a little below the playing activity. Doucet was the reason they'd lost the last three games, the boy was a natural Quidditch player, newly hired a little over three months ago. Harry constantly wondered why the boy hadn't gone on to play professionally. Of course, a lot of people had said the same thing about him.

"DOUCET FEINTS THE BALL TO THE RIGHT HOOP AND TOSSES IT THROUGH THE LEFT. SCORE FOR THE JUNIORS, TEN-NOTHING!"

Harry grumbled, as he flew up. Then he noticed the Junior's seeker, Miranda Grappelli, tailing him. She'd done that the last game too and it annoyed Harry.

_Nothing like a little chase to start the game, _he thought before taking off in a streak of loops, quick turns, and reverse directions. After about a minute he glanced back and sure enough the other seeker was hovering on the other side of the pitch, having gotten tired of the chase. Harry smirked, took off upward, and found himself hovering above the Executive's goal hoops. 

"DOUCET PASSES TO GRIFFITH AND…BUT NO, HAYES INTERCEPTS AND THERE'S A CLEAR PATH TO THE JUNIOR HOOPS THANKS TO BRILLIANT BEATER WORK BY JORDAN AND WEASLEY. HE TOSSES…HE SCORES! WE'RE TIED AT TEN-TEN."

Harry cheered, drifted down a bit and caught Draco's eye, returning the wink from earlier. Draco smirked and nodded but his attention was on Doucet who was once again charging up the center of the pitch, flagged on either side by Griffith and the Junior's other Chaser, Joy Norman. 

Harry swerved up and out of the way and as he did he saw it…the flickering of gold half-way across the pitch over Lee Jordan's head. A quick check told him that the other Seeker hadn't seen it…but she was closer. There was no way Harry would make it to the Snitch before her. With a sigh he took off toward the ground in the opposite direction in a blur. 

"JOHNSON HAS THE QUAFFLE, DODGES A BLUDGER AND PASSES TO HAYES. HAYES IS AT THE HOOPS, HE SHOOTS, HE SCO-OH FOLKS THERE'S SOME SEEKER ACTION AT THE END OF THE PITCH! HARRY POTTER IS TAKING AN ASCENDING DIVE; HE MAY HAVE SEEN THE SNITCH! GRAPPELLI TAKES OFF AFTER HIM BUT SHE'S FAR BEHIND. MEANWHILE THE SCORE IS TWENTY-TEN TO THE EXEC'S AND POTTER PULLS A SPECTACULAR FEINT! BUT GRAPPELLI'S PULLED UP TOO AND SEEMS TO BE PERFECTLY FINE…NORMAN HAS THE QUAFFLE…"

Harry tuned out the commentary as he recovered from the dizziness that accompanies pulling up after a feint of that magnitude. Once he was sufficiently steady he glanced toward where he'd last seen the snitch, but it had flown off…not that he was surprised. He was content that he'd kept the other Seeker from it. 

The game went on for some time, almost two hours. Harry saw the snitch twice and each time had to distract the other seeker, being too far away to actually catch it himself. 

His team was up by twenty, the score being twenty-forty; what with both teams having such strong defense. It seemed that once Draco had gotten a feel for how Doucet worked he was having no problem deflecting his shots. In the mean time his Chasers were playing an excellent game. Therefore Harry was absolutely beaming when he floated over toward the Exec's goal hoops to see how the blond was doing. 

"How are you holding up, Malfoy?"

"Just fine, Potter," Draco answered back as he watched George Weasley send a Bludger at Miranda Griffith, causing her to drop the ball and giving Cho the chance to intercept.

"Brilliant," Harry said and was about to fly off toward the other side when he heard Draco hiss his name.

"Potter! Potter, get it…get it, it's on my nose!"

Harry frowned and spun around, there, hovering…almost _resting on Draco's nose was the snitch itself. _

"Don't move," Harry hissed back, inching forward on his broom.

"I'm not _stupid_, Potter. Hurry up, I'm going to sneeze, the damned thing tickles!"

"Be patient," Harry snapped.

He took a sharp breath and his hand shot out, fisting around the snitch and unintentionally ramming straight into Draco's eye.

"Ah, fuck Potter!" yelped the blond, reaching up a hand to cover his eye. "You _punched_ me!"

"Shit," Harry cursed almost apologetically, his hand still wrapped around the struggling snitch. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, hold up the snitch! We won!"

Harry blinked, and then a grin spread over his face as he held his hand up victoriously.

Ginny had seen and announced what it had appeared like to the entirety of the crowd; of course it had simply looked as if Harry was punching Draco in the eye. He waved his arm frantically with the snitch in it and slowly they all caught on.

"…SEEMS HARRY POTTER HAS JUST PUNCHED DRACO MALFOY IN THE EYE BUT…WAIT…HE'S WAVING HIS HAND AND…YES, THERE'S THE REFEREE'S WHISTLE! HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! THE EXECUTIVES WIN ONE-NINETY TO TWENTY!"

Harry's team exploded into cheers as they all rushed to the Executive's goal posts. He was enveloped in hugs and he laughed and accepted them all as the team landed. After a minute with the team, Harry made his way over to Draco, who standing slightly away from the group and poking at his eye with his fore-finger.

"Don't poke at it," Harry chided.

"It's going to bruise, I can feel it."

"Cho can heal it; she took a course in Medi-magic before she joined the department. I'll go get her in a minute. I am sorry though, I didn't mean to do that."

"Obviously," Draco drawled.

"I'll make it up to you," Harry blurted, then hoped he wouldn't regret it.

The blond brightened. "Does that mean I can punch you back?" he said in an overly cheerful tone.

Harry glared. "No…I was thinking more along the lines of a drink, but if you're going to be that way…"

"Oh honestly, Potter. It was a joke," said Draco, finally dropping his hand away from his eye which was indeed bruising. "Come on, Boy Wonder, buy me a drink."

"Alright…but don't call me that," Harry responded. He adjusted his glasses and turned around…

…And was bowled over by eight arms and four smaller bodies plowing into him.

He landed on his back with a thump and was assaulted by shouts of 'Dad!' and 'Way to go!' and Brittany piped up with 'Why did you punch Mr. Malfoy?' He laughed, sitting up as the girls crawled off of him. 

"It was an accident. The snitch was on his nose."  

The girls gazed at him with awestruck wonder that only children could manage as he recounted the events of his snitch catching. Draco stood behind him watching the scene with much amusement.

"That's so cool," exclaimed Cordelia, and Harry was glad to see she was not carrying around her usual moody demeanor.

Finally, Hermione approached, standing before them with her arms crossed over her chest and smiling softly at her children with their father.

"Good game, Harry," she said kindly.

"Thanks," Harry said, moving to get up. A pale hand appeared in front of his face and he took it automatically, allowing Draco to help him up. He brushed himself off and looked up at Hermione again.

She was frowning now though, and eyeing Draco suspiciously. Harry fidgeted.

"Oh, Hermione, I guess you remember Draco?"

The formidable woman's eyes flashed and her gaze never veered. "I remember him quite well," she said in clipped tones. "Malfoy."

"Granger," said Draco without thinking, his eyes narrowed at the woman in a way that Harry remembered not too fondly.

"It's Potter," Hermione corrected coolly. 

"Right, my mistake," Draco drawled, and it sounded almost mocking.

Harry and the girls were standing out of the line of fire as the two gazes cut into one another. Harry wanted desperately to interrupt but he couldn't find the words. So he continued to be uneasy.

"I'm sure. Girls," she snapped and the girls knew the tone well enough to know to pay attention. "Say goodbye to your father, we have to get home."

She said it all without removing her narrowed gaze from Draco's.

"Bye, Daddy," they chorused one by one and went to their mother's side.

"It was nice to see you again, girls," Draco said kindly, snapping his gaze away from Hermione and letting it soften on Harry's daughters.

The four of them smiled weakly at him and nodded.

"Harry, weren't we about to go for a drink?" he continued sweetly.

"Erm, yes, right…well we should go shower first and then…um…that is, shower separately. Of course…yes. So we'll just go now," said Harry, squirming under Hermione's harsh gaze.

The woman Harry had once shared a bed with gave Draco one last hard glance and spun on her heel, striding off toward the exit with the girls running to keep up behind her.

Harry let out a huge breath. "That was awkward."

Draco snorted, beginning to walk toward the locker room, Harry following beside him. "I can't believe you were ever married to that bitch of a mud-"

Draco cut himself off looking almost ashamed. "Nevermind."

Harry was surprised to hear the old Draco in that tone. In the past two weeks he had begun to forget _that_ Draco ever existed. But he supposed when pushed, it was in the man's mind set to revert back to his old ways.

"Don't worry about it," Harry dismissed, not wanting to dwell on it. "Let's just get cleaned up and get your eye healed."

**** 

It was almost two hours later that the two were seated at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron sipping their drinks. Draco's eye had been healed, and they'd both had their showers relatively separate save for the fact that they _were_ communal showers and the entire time Harry had kept averting his eyes and Draco had found it all incredibly amusing. The reason it had taken so long for them to get to their celebration was due to the fact that the rest of the team kept inviting them to the victory party at Lee and George's every five seconds and they had to continually turn them down amidst back-patting and hand shaking. Harry was extremely glad to be away from the chaos that followed most Quidditch games.

"Thanks," said Harry as he set down his mead on the bar counter. "For playing I mean; we wouldn't have been able to play if it wasn't for you."

Draco shrugged. "You're welcome. It was nice to play again. It's been a long time."

Harry nodded. "And I'm sorry for-"

"Potter, let it go. I know it was an accident. I forgave you, now quit bringing it up…I'd like to forget about it." 

"Oh, right, sorry," said Harry uneasily.

Draco rolled his eyes exasperatedly and turned an unblinking gaze on Harry. "Honestly, Potter. What the hell do you keep fidgeting about? You look like a school girl."

Harry stared at the table. "Um…nothing?"

The blond snorted and turned back to his drink. "Alright, fine."

Silence reigned again and Harry felt distinctly miserable for a reason he couldn't determine.

"Um, I'm sorry about Hermione," he ventured.

"Don't worry about it, Potter. Like I said, I'm trying to forget about all that. So if you don't mind please try to refrain from bringing it up."

"Since you're begging me like that, I guess," Harry said with a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood.  

Draco quirked a smile and looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. "You sure are something, Potter."

 "Um…thanks?"

"So, what was that you stuttering about separate showers to your ex-wife?" asked Draco with a distinct hint of humor to his voice.

"I-erm," Harry's voice squeaked and he cleared his throat, staring directly into his drink. "I thought you wanted to forget about all that."

Draco laughed and patted Harry on the back. "Like I said, Harry, you sure are something."

Harry heaved a sigh and downed his drink in one gulp.

"Unfortunately, I've got to get home."

Harry turned to look at the blond as he stood, setting the money on the counter for his drink.

Harry stared at the money on the bar top. "I thought I was paying?"

Draco smirked and picked up his money, placing it back in his pocket. "If you insist on being the gentleman...I guess I can't complain." 

"I guess I'll see you around, then?" Harry blurted and berated himself for how innocently hopeful it sounded.

"Of course you will, Potter," Draco said, stepping away from the bar. "You've befriended me now. You'll never get rid of me."

Harry laughed and turned around to watch the white-blond head disappear out the door to Muggle London.

Then he turned back around, and ordered another drink. He felt like he needed it.

***************************** 

A.N.  Sorry it took a bit longer for me to get this chapter out than expected. But now it's out, and I hope you enjoyed it! I have quite a bit of school work to catch up with at the moment, but I will try to get chapter four out as soon as possible.  I know I don't like waiting either. ;)


	4. Chapter Four

> Title: Unforeseen Alliance  
  
Author: DeannaJean  
  
Pairing: Harry/Draco, and Ron/Pansy.  
  
Archive: Sure, just let me know.  
  
Spoilers: All Books  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. They're all property of J.K. Rowling and Schoolastic and all those other people. I just like to tamper.
> 
> The road wound this way and that, and other cars flew past the dark green Pontiac Harry was driving. He sighed as a box of tissues bounced off the side of his head.
> 
> "Girls! I'm trying to drive here!"
> 
> A quick spell had made room for all four of them in the back seat. However, squeezing four siblings into the back of a car, no matter how much you expanded it, was asking for disaster. The war raged on:
> 
> "Brittany, I swear to Merlin if you don't quit singing I'll hex you! Do you have _any_ idea how annoying that is?!"
> 
> "_Daaaad_! Delia took my Beater's bat! Tell her to give it back! Tell her!"
> 
> Brittany promptly burst into tears. "'Delia hit me with the bat, Daddy!"
> 
> "You're such a baby. Dad, she wouldn't stop! It was _horrible_!"
> 
> "'Delia, that is unacceptable. You do not hit your younger sister with a _Beater's bat_. Give it back to Asia. Brittany, stop crying. She barely grazed you with it. Asia, don't whine, you have your bat," Harry rambled it all off in a strict parental tone, causing silence to reign over the back seat. Harry wondered how long it would last.
> 
> He was grateful that Kimberly was perched quietly in the corner with a book on unicorns. The girl had taken to animals spectacularly; Harry couldn't help but think that she and Hagrid would have gotten on very well. Harry winced inwardly at the hurt that thought caused him. Kimberley would never get to meet Hagrid; none of them would. Just as none of them would ever meet Sirius, never lay eyes on Arthur Weasley or hear the strict but caring tones of Minerva McGonagall in Transfiguration class.
> 
> He chanced a glance over at the passenger seat at Draco. Who was trying to pretend he hadn't just witnessed Harry being fatherly, but a small amused smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth. He always seemed to find Harry's parental status entertaining.
> 
> Harry wasn't quite sure what had prompted him to invite the ex-Slytherin along on their outing. Saturday morning, two weeks after the Quidditch game and Harry's work load had finally started to decrease. The girls had been lounging about the living room in various states of boredom. Harry had had his fill of their complaints and finally suggested that they all go out for a ride around the back-roads. With the thought of how good Draco was with the girls, and the fact that Harry had managed to get him on Floo, he'd invited him along. The girls were rowdy, but so far it was going well.
> 
> "What are you smiling at?" Harry shot at him; his voice still in a tone of disciplinarian.
> 
> "You," the blond shot back. He didn't seem at all fazed. But in a split-second he seemed to catch himself, though from what Harry couldn't figure, and his eyes flicked out the window, studying the road signs. They seized on something, and widened. It was then Harry realized he should be watching the road and snapped his head forward. But not before he could miss the slow mischievous smirk spread over Draco's face.
> 
> "Oh, how convenient," he said nonchalantly. "They're holding a fair a few miles away from here. Perhaps we should go?"
> 
> "A fair?" said Harry blankly; wondering what was going through the blond's mind.
> 
> "Yes, a fair. You know with carnival games, Ferris wheels and…cotton candy."
> 
> He had barely finished his statement before the girls started in, jumping on the end of his words.
> 
> "Daddy! Can we go? Can we?"
> 
> "A fair! I want to go! I want to ride the whirly-twirly ride!"
> 
> "I wanna go to the fair! Let's go, Daddy!"
> 
> "Come on, Dad. We never do anything fun! Can we go, please? _Please_?"
> 
> Harryscowled overat Draco who was giving him a mock-pleading face.
> 
> "Please, Daddy?" crooned the blond man, humor laced in his voice.
> 
> Harry caved. He hit the turn signal rather roughly and turned onto the exit, the car speeding by a large sign that stated the fair was three miles in that direction. The back seat of the car exploded in cheers and in the passenger seat Draco was smirking in a very self-satisfied manner.
> 
> Harry braced himself.
> 
> In another five minutes the six of them were standing in the long line, the girls shifting restlessly.
> 
> "This is your fault," he muttered at Draco, accompanied by a half-hearted glare.
> 
> "I know," said Draco cheerfully, looking pleased that he'd managed to rile Harry to this extent.
> 
> The line seemed to drag on forever but finally they had paid and were standing on the inside of the gates, gazing around. Before the girls could pull them off anywhere he herded them off to the side, away from the bustling crowds of people.
> 
> "Now listen here you four, I meant to tell you this in the car. No. Magic. None, don't talk about it, don't think about it, and definitely," he added, letting his gaze linger on Cordelia who was the most well versed in actually performing a spell. "Don't do it. Understood?"
> 
> They all nodded in understanding. This was a Muggle fair, and magic had no place. Harry let out a heavy breath.
> 
> "Now," Draco broke in. "Where would you like to go first?"
> 
> The two adults were instantly assaulted by four different requests. For the sake of sanity, they split up into two groups. Harry took Cordelia (much to her displeasure) and Asia and they left for the Tilt-A-Whirl, and Draco headed off in the direction of the carousel with Brittany and Kimberly.
> 
> The day seemed to go on forever, into the warm and careful dusk of summer. It was almost eight when the six of them met up at the brightly lit Ferris wheel. They decided on one last ride. Cordelia, Asia, and Brittany wanted to get on together, which Harry grudgingly allowed. Kimberly agreed to ride with Draco, and Harry was left with the ridiculously large teddy bear that Draco had won for Brittany. Getting on last, he was on a seat directly below Draco and Kimberly. As the giant wheel turned, it stopped near the top to let on new passengers. Harry swallowed and tired not to glance over the side. He didn't mind the things that much...until they stopped and his seat was left swaying precariously in the wind. Then, his ears perked up, as words floated down from above.
> 
> "Mr. Draco," said Kimberley. "You like wizards, right?"
> 
> "Yes..." Draco replied, waiting for the catch.
> 
> "W-well…do you like Daddy?"
> 
> In the short silence that followed, Harry felt warmth creep up his face and he wished desperately he could see Draco's face. He listened intently for the response.
> 
> "I like your father very much, he's a wonderful friend," he said, and Harry could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "But Harry doesn't fancy men in that way."
> 
> "Oh," said Kimberley, and Harry was horrified to hear disappointment in her voice. "B-but, what if he did, though?"
> 
> Draco sighed, something Harry didn't hear. "He wouldn't, and so it doesn't matter."
> 
> Kimberley was quiet after that, and the ride continued. Throughout it all, the only thing that Harry could think of was how Draco had never _really_ answered his daughter's question. That and why on earth he cared.
> 
> That night when they returned home, it was going on nine. Harry tucked the girls into bed and collapsed onto his sofa with a bottle of Fire Whiskey. He sipped, and watched whatever stupid show was on the television. It was just as he was beginning to relax and forget what he'd heard that day, that there were three militant sounding knocks at his door.
> 
> Frowning, Harry stood and answered the door, frowning even more in confusion when he found himself face to face with a livid looking Hermione.
> 
> "Um…something wrong?" he asked.
> 
> "Oh I don't know, Harry," she hissed. Harry winced and held the door open for her to come in. She looked the same as she did the many times before when she had been about to blow up at him. He didn't want her disturbing the neighbors. "Perhaps it's just that you took my daughters somewhere without telling me, no plans, and no forethought. Did you ever think that I may have wanted to speak with them? You don't just leave without telling me where you're taking them, Harry!"
> 
> "I don't see why not," Harry fired back, used to this but still feeling awkward. "We agreed that I had them on the weekends. They're my daughters too. I don't have to get your _permission_ to take them on a drive."
> 
> "You took them on a drive? You took them on a drive for _six and a half hours_?"
> 
> "Well, no," Harry began, and now he looked away. "Draco came with us and we wound up going to the fair."
> 
> "The fair? Well I supp-wait. Draco _Malfoy_?" Hermoine said with a sharp edge in her tone.
> 
> "You know of another?" Harry asked, trying to keep the mood light; then he relented. "He's a friend, 'Mione, and he's good with them."
> 
> Hermione lifted her chin defiantly. "Harry, I don't care _what_ you do with your free time anymore. But I will thank you to keep my children away from a man who spent his entire childhood in a Death Eater household, attempting to make the lives of Muggle-borns, like their own _mother,_ miserable. It's just unacceptable."
> 
> Her eyes narrowed sharply, in the way they did when she was about to deliver the final blow. Harry took a deep breath.
> 
> "Actually, come to think of it, while you keep his company, I'm not sure I want to allow you to see the girls. Today proves that your reckless behavior is out of control and I will not tolerate it. Don't you remember Harry, the hell he put me through for being what I am. I do not want someone like that around my girls."
> 
> Harry's head was spinning. What the bloody hell had gotten into her? Was she really that bitter about something that happened so long ago? It was ridiculous…Draco was just a person, surely the situation didn't merit this much....
> 
> But it seemed it did, because Hermione was striding briskly through the hallway toward the girls' room. The realization of it all hit Harry and it sparked him into action, he followed after her.
> 
> "Hermione, _stop_. There's no reason to wake them now, you can pick them up tomorrow. You're being unreasonable," he whispered harshly, grabbing his ex-wife by the upper arm as she reached the door to Asia and Kimberly's bedroom.
> 
> Hermione fixed him with a cold gaze and wretched her arm from his grasp. "I'm taking my daughters home," she hissed, and stormed into the room.
> 
> Harry shut his eyes, feeling at a complete loss of what to do. Hermione had turned the lights on with a fast mutter of 'Lumos' and was now shaking Asia awake almost strictly, in a way only Hermione could do.
> 
> Asia rubbed blearily at her eyes, looking befuddled as Hermione moved to Kimberly's bed.
> 
> "Get dressed," Hermione ordered militantly and brushed past Harry to the other bedroom.
> 
> Kimberly climbed out of her bed and carefully pulled the sheets and covers up over the pillows, making her bed neatly. Asia simply hopped out of her bed and began rummaging through her dresser. Instead of dressing though, Kimberly shuffled over to Harry and looked up at him curiously.
> 
> "Daddy?"
> 
> Harry sighed, squatting down in front of her. "Yes, Love?"
> 
> "I don't understand," she said in the light clear voice of a child just looking for clear answers.
> 
> Asia had stopped her dressing midway into a pair of shorts to gaze at her father inquisitively as well. Harry didn't know what to say to them. He just shook his head helplessly. Then, he pulled Kimberly into a hug, motioning Asia over as well.
> 
> "I'll see you soon, okay?" he muttered to them, trying to convince himself as well. He knew at this point there was no way he could argue with Hermione. He wasn't in his sanest states at the moment, and he was doing his best not show his panic. He kept telling himself that they could sort this out.
> 
> "What's going on, Dad?" asked Cordelia, entering the room fully dressed, pulling Brittany by the hand.
> 
> Harry didn't see any reason to lie to them.
> 
> "Your mum doesn't want you around Draco or around me while I'm friends with Draco. She's taking you home."
> 
> "I don't understand," Cordelia said, her brow furrowing as she unknowingly mimicked the words of her younger sister.
> 
> "I don't either," said Harry in a defeated tone. He stood up, and instead took a seat on the end of Asia's unmade bed.
> 
> Brittany padded her way over to Harry and looked up at him sadly. "I don't care if you're friends with Mr. Draco, Daddy," she said, trying to comfort him, and Harry was disturbed to see tears rimming her eyes.
> 
> Harry would have responded but Hermione chose that moment to storm back into the room, carrying two empty suitcases. She started with Kimberly's dresser, shoving items of clothing into it haphazardly. Harry craned his neck to look into the hallway and sure enough there were two full suitcases already sitting there.
> 
> _Bloody hell, what is it with her and making my life miserable?_
> 
> His mind was blanking on what to do and it wasn't long until Hermione was pulling four confused children out of his apartment, all toting suitcases. He stood silently in the living room for awhile, not sure which way was up. Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter was at a loss for what to do.
> 
> Without thinking about it, and barely realizing he was doing it, Harry made his way to the fireplace and Flooed Ron and Pansy's house. The house elf was there to answer him.
> 
> "Hello, Mr. Potter," she said brightly. "The family is not being home right now but if you is to leave a message – Mr. Potter you is not looking well, is you sick?"
> 
> _Where the hell could they be at this time of night?_
> 
> Harry shook his head hurriedly, coming close to banging it on the edge of the fireplace. "I-I'm fine, Tilla. Just let Ron know I Flooed, okay?"
> 
> "Tilla will be doing so, Mr. Potter. Don't you worry."
> 
> Harry managed a weak smile. "Thank you," he said, and he was about to pull back into the fire when an idea struck him…a last resort. "Wait – Tilla, could you get something for me?"
> 
> "Is Mr. Potter needing something Tilla can help with?"
> 
> "Erm…yes. I need you to get an address for me. Can you do that?"
> 
> Harry swallowed nervously and stared at the apartment door marked number eight. He had easily found the apartment complex located a street behind Diagon Alley in the housing section of wizarding London, not too far from his own house. And the room itself was easy to locate. Actually knocking on the door however was proving to be quite a feat.
> 
> _Come on, Harry. You're friends right? You need someone to talk to…and it's not like he hasn't dropped over at your place before._
> 
> _He never dropped by at ten-thirty at night._
> 
> Gathering his nerves, Harry lifted a very heavy arm and knocked swiftly three times. He heard voices behind the door and the horrified thought that he may be interrupting something flashed into his head before the door flew open. Harry blinked.
> 
> Standing inside of the door was a girl. She couldn't have been more than a few years his junior, dressed in a skirt much too short and tight for Harry's taste and a shirt not much better than that. Her honey-blonde hair was long, ending about where her skirt did. She looked at Harry curiously.
> 
> "Can I help you?" she asked, as if she were talking to a child.
> 
> Harry's brow furrowed. "I-I'm sorry…maybe I got the wrong place. I'm Harry Potter; I'm looking for a Draco Mal-"
> 
> "Who is it, Jill?" a voice called from another room and Harry recognized it instantly. Before he could say anything the girl called back.
> 
> "Some guy for you. 'Says he's Harry Potter," she said with laughter in her voice. "Do you want me to give him money and send him away or should I just shut the door?"
> 
> Harry was about to say something indigent but once again before he got the chance, Draco emerged from the other room. Now normally, an occurrence like this would not have caught Harry off guard; people walked out of rooms every day. But people did not walk out of rooms everyday dressed in nothing but tight white jeans with the smooth, pale skin of their torso exposed for the world to see. This time Harry really didn't have anything to say, he was rather speechless. And once again his mind was struggling to discover why.
> 
> Draco smirked at the girl. "Did it ever occur to you, Jillian, that maybe he _was_ Harry Potter?"
> 
> Jillian blinked a couple of times in amazement. She looked from Harry, to Draco, and back to Harry. Then she took a couple of blatant steps forward and pushed Harry's fringe off his forehead.
> 
> "Blood-y hell!" she exclaimed as Harry stumbled back in shock.
> 
> Draco laughed. "You'll have to excuse her, she's a little bold."
> 
> Jillian glared. "Don't apologize for me, Draco, I can do it myself."
> 
> Then there was thumping, somebody running down a hallway and what emerged was _the_ glitteriest thing Harry had ever seen.
> 
> "_Draaaco_, you're supposed to be ready to go," whined the man. "Honestly, you take the longest to dress of anyone I've ever met."
> 
> He was tall, brunette, very lean and dressed in what Harry was sure were plastic green glitter pants and a tight shiny silver shirt. Silver bracelets dangled on his wrists and a single dangly silver earring hung from his ear. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that at one point he'd been a Slytherin, as he had never seen such garish fashion sense from any other house. As he entered the room, which Harry now realized was a living room, he laid eyes on Harry, gave him a once over and smiled larger than Harry had ever seen.
> 
> "Who's the cutie?" he crooned.
> 
> "Bran, this is Harry," Draco introduced. He seemed to be enjoying this more and more every second that passed. "Who has yet to explain why exactly he's here…?"
> 
> "Erm…I needed to talk to someone. Ron wasn't home – though where he could be at ten at night I don't know. I-if you're busy I can come back some other time…" he rambled, edging his way to the door.
> 
> Draco quickly realized that there was something wrong. He knew better than to think that Harry would just show up randomly in the night for no apparent reason. Jillian was watching Draco curiously in the way she did when she thought something was up. Brandon was still eyeing Harry like he wanted to devour him on the spot. Making a split-second decision, he cleared his throat.
> 
> "You two are ready, why don't you just go without me tonight," he offered while cutting Harry off and dragging him away from the door by his arm. "I've got company to entertain."
> 
> Bran pouted miserably. "But Draco, you _promised_. You skipped last month!"
> 
> Draco gave him a look, one that Bran knew well and it was enough to silence him. "I'll make it up to you." He turned to look at Jillian. "Both of you," he added.
> 
> Jillian nodded once and grabbed Bran by his bracelet-clad wrist. "Come on, Bran. We'll be late," she said and began dragging him out the door.
> 
> Once they were out in the hall, Draco shut the door and turned to Harry, crossing his arms over his naked chest.
> 
> "Spill it, Wonder Boy."
> 
> Now that Harry was actually standing there in Draco's living room he was beginning to think that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. It wasn't like he could sit there and cry on Draco's shoulder. Not that he would have done that with Ron but Ron had been there through everything he went through with Hermione…from day one really. Draco was a bit of a different case.
> 
> Draco eyed the black-haired man before him for a minute, taking in his state. Harry looked about ready to bolt, and it was obvious something harsh had been laid on his shoulders or he would certainly not be there. Draco made a decision that he would not let the man leave the apartment until he had calmed down.
> 
> He sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. "Alright, Harry. Come on," he said, grabbing Harry by the upper arm, pulling him over and depositing him on the couch. Harry, for his part, didn't put up a fuss.
> 
> Draco wandered into the kitchen which was melded into the living room; the flooring just turned from carpet to tile and there it was. He poked around the cupboards for a bit and then came back, plopping down next to the ex-Gryffindor.
> 
> He smirked, setting down a full bottle of fire-whiskey and two glasses. "Now, you are going to sit here. You're going to drink your mind into oblivion; you're going to feel better…until morning. _And_ you're going to tell me why you came to my door at ten at night and had me cancel my monthly clubbing excursion. Right?"
> 
> Harry shut his eyes a minute, as if he was contemplating something and Draco watched him closely. Finally, he opened them and stared down at the alcohol on the table with the bright green orbs.
> 
> "Right," he said, uncapping the bottle and pouring about an inch in the bottom of each glass. He lifted one of them and held it up, just looking at it for a moment. "Bottoms up."
> 
> Harry liked drinking. It was a horrible habit; one did not escape one's problems by getting smashed out of their mind. However, once in a while, it was good to forget. Sometimes he needed to forget. And he was honestly glad Draco was there, to forget with him.
> 
> "Quite," Draco quipped back before downing his almost in unison with Harry.
> 
> "So, you want to know why I'm here?" Harry asked, with not a small amount of bitterness to it.
> 
> Draco refilled their glasses. "Yes."
> 
> Harry picked his up and downed it. Draco followed. "Hermione took the girls."
> 
> The shock registered on the blond's face. "Not for good?" he asked.
> 
> Harry nodded, grabbed the bottle, and tried to refill his glass again. He could already feel it going to his head from drinking so much, so quickly and he was doing his best to contain the urge to fall backwards. He was stopped when Draco put a hand over the top of his glass.
> 
> "Slow down," he told him, taking the bottle back. "_Why_?"
> 
> Sighing heavily the ex-Gryffindor fell back against the couch, laying his head back. "She doesn't want them around you, or me around them if I'm spending time with you," he said bluntly.
> 
> There was a silence a moment as Draco took this in and he unthinkingly refilled their glasses as he did. "Might I ask then why you're here? I should think a choice like that would be rather simple."
> 
> Harry bit his lip, his brow furrowing and his face reddening a bit. "It should be," he said quietly.
> 
> Draco didn't reply; he handed Harry his glass, frowning in thought. Harry took it, staring off into space. Draco decided to break the silence that seemed to swallow them. He snatched his wand from the coffee table and waved it at the stereo on a shelf near the door and a soft music flowed through the room. It had the desired effect; Harry snapped out of his daze and looked up at the stereo.
> 
> "What's this?"
> 
> Draco smirked a bit. "Judy Garland."
> 
> Harry's eyebrows rose into his hairline as the classic voice began belting out _I'm Always Chasing Rainbows_. "Is it just you, or do all Slytherins have odd tastes in music?"
> 
> Draco actually laughed. "Compared to most Slytherins, this is surprisingly normal."
> 
> Harry took a swallow of his drink, not wanting to dump alcohol down his throat the way he had been. His head was already spinning. "It's nice."
> 
> They continued to drink, talking and generally avoiding the subject of the girls and Hermione all together. Harry was properly smashed after a couple of hours, and so was Draco, who could usually handle alcohol fairly well.
> 
> Finally though, after they had all but killed the topics of work, Quidditch, and Draco's roommates, Draco broached the subject yet again.
> 
> "Granger _really_ doesn't like me, does she?"
> 
> "So it would appear," Harry said, surprisingly firmly for one so intoxicated.
> 
> "I don't unders-"
> 
> "Nobody does. Though I susssspect," he slurred. "That it has something to do with her being a Muggle born. Over the years I've discovered that if anyone can hold a grudge, Hermione can."
> 
> "Well it's wonderful to know I'm eternally damned in her eyes," Draco ejected mock-cheerfully as he picked at the label on the nearly empty bottle.
> 
> "I'm not fairing much better, really."
> 
> "Mmm," came the agreement. "And yet you're here with me."
> 
> "I am."
> 
> "Despite the fact that I am the reason Granger refuses to let you see your offspring."
> 
> Instead of responding, Harry chose to giggle drunkenly. "You said offspring. They're not cattle."
> 
> Draco smirked slowly at him, pale blond hair falling into his eyes. "I should hope not. Granger may be bad, but she's not that much of a cow."
> 
> "Cheesy!" Harry proclaimed, throwing the pillow from behind his back at Draco's head and, due to lack of support, fell further back onto the couch. Draco took advantage of this and wedged the pillow between Harry's side and the back of the couch. Scrunching down onto the couch, he settled his head there and both of them fell into a rather comfortable silence but for the sound of the music.
> 
> A while later, Harry was slouched down on the couch staring into space and contemplating the meaning of the universe when suddenly, Draco stood. He stumbled to the center of the room where there was a bit of open space, held his arms out as if there was an invisible someone there and began stepping to the music in a circle.
> 
> "Malfoy," Harry said placidly. "What the hell are you doing?"
> 
> "What does it look like I'm doing, Potter? I'm dancing."
> 
> Harry scowled and watched the blond a minute more before hauling himself to his feet.
> 
> "Well, you can't dance properly without a partner," he said quietly, a bit slurred. He stepped up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and slipping his hand into Draco's left one.
> 
> Draco seemed to tense a bit but still laid his hand on the back of Harry's neck. Harry placed his cheek up beside the blond's and the dancing resumed. They remained that way for a period, and then Draco broke the quiet.
> 
> "What are you doing?" he whispered.
> 
> There was a silence as Harry thought up an appropriate answer in his drunken state. "I'm dancing with you," he replied, his voice rolling past Draco's ear and affecting a repressed shiver.
> 
> "Why?" Draco asked after a moment.
> 
> Harry pulled back, pausing. "I've no idea," he said softly.
> 
> Draco met Harry's eye. "Oh," he said his face blank. A moment passed in which gazes were locked and then the dancing resumed.
> 
> The words filtered through Harry's brain but he barely registered.
> 
> _You made me love you. I didn't wanna do it-I didn't wanna do it. And all the time you knew it, I guess you always knew it._
> 
> "Potter, you're a horrible dancer."
> 
> "I am not. I took lessons before my wedding," grumbled Harry indignantly.
> 
> "Are too," he said, his brain unable to come up with a coherent response. "Twirl me."
> 
> Harry snickered but otherwise followed directions, when pulling Draco back, he tugged rather hard and the other man topped into him. They were almost nose to nose, and gaping at each other, almost with amazement. Harry drew in a light, shaky breath.
> 
> "I think I might to kiss you," Draco said.
> 
> "O-…oh," Harry replied slowly, vaguely lost in gray-depths.
> 
> Draco leaned forward uncertainly tilting his head to the side and Harry responded by leaning forward just the tiniest bit as well, tilting his head the opposite way. There was a terse moment where there couldn't have been more than a millimeter between them and then Draco pushed forward and pressed his lips against the dark-haired man whose arms he occupied.
> 
> Somehow, they were still dancing, and their eyes were scrunched shut and it was so achingly innocent that for minute everything else fell away and Harry felt the world blur like the ink on rain-sprinkled parchment. Up until this point, every kiss he'd ever had, had always seemed mechanical, unnatural. Long ago he had accepted that that was just the way of kisses and there was no fighting it. In that moment he realized he'd been wrong all along but his brain was so muddled, his thoughts drugged down with alcohol, that he barely registered what he was doing.
> 
> And then, Draco tried to deepen the kiss, and Harry tensed.
> 
> Draco's heart plummeted.
> 
> In an instant Harry had pulled away, stumbling back a few steps with his bright green eyes wide with confusion, and yes…there was fear there.
> 
> "Harr-…I'm sor-" Draco began but Harry cut him off.
> 
> "I should go," he said quickly, attempting to back peddle to the door and narrowly missing tripping over his own feet.
> 
> Draco flinched back as though Harry had shouted and like so many things with Draco, Harry wondered why. The blond wrapped his arms around himself and put up a cold mask, staring at his feet because Harry wasn't there and he didn't think he could look at Harry right then.
> 
> "Go, then," he said, sounding indifferent, which was an emotion Harry had never heard in his voice before.
> 
> "Um…I'm sorry i-if-"
> 
> It was Draco's turn to interrupt. He looked up at him and his eyes were almost blazing with silver. "I thought you were leaving," he said coldly.
> 
> Harry swallowed hard and almost ran from the apartment.
> 
> The next morning, Harry awoke to an empty house and a splitting headache. It was a moment before he remembered what had caused that, and as the events of the night before came speeding back to him he groaned and attempted to bury back under the covers.
> 
> He actually did manage to sleep for another couple of hours but after that he could no longer force himself back into his dreams. He shuffled tiredly out into the kitchen and began making a pot of tea. As he was heading back into the living room with a mug of tea, he nearly jumped a foot in the air, the mug falling to the carpeted floor and spilling everywhere. Draco's head was in the fireplace.
> 
> "Harry, we need to talk about this," he said, his face set firmly, not betraying any emotion at all.
> 
> "I'd rather not," Harry said scowling and turning around, heading back into the kitchen. His hangover would not allow for him to deal with this at the moment.
> 
> He waited in the kitchen for a bit until he was fairly sure the blond man's head was no longer in the fireplace. He poured himself another cup of tea and went back into the living room, using his wand to clean up the mess he'd made with the other.
> 
> "Harry!"
> 
> Harry scowled and faced the fireplace. "I thought I told you I didn't want to tal-" he cut himself off and busied himself with turning bright red.
> 
> It was Ron.
> 
> "What are you talking about? Tilla said you Flooed last night, is everything alright?"
> 
> "Erm, not really," he said wincing. "Look, I've got a bit of a headache at the moment. Will you be around later? I've got to speak with you about something."
> 
> Ron eyed him a moment from the fireplace he couldn't really tell, but he was pretty sure Harry was hung over. He wouldn't be surprised if whatever Harry had to tell him involved Hermione. He sighed. "Alright, mate. I'll be here all day. Come by whenever you're ready."
> 
> Harry sent him a weak smile. "Thanks, Ron."
> 
> Ron returned the smile and disappeared.
> 
> Harry realized that he had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
> 
> A.N. There you are. Chapter 4. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter and anyone who reviews this chapter. It really means a lot. I realize you probably all thought I died but I'm still here, just taking my time. I'm leaving for Italy at the end of June and I come back the end of July. I may get a chapter out before then, but I can't be sure. I appreciate the faithful readers. I fully intend to finish this fic no matter how long it takes.
> 
> So leave a review! And I'll see you all next chapter.


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